The Tower Treasure

pnt

“ THESE BOYS WANT TO LOOK THROUGH THE OLD TOWER.”

The Tower Treasure.

Frontispiece (Page 149)

THE HARDY BOYS

THE TOWER
TREASURE

By
FRANKLIN W. DIXON
AUTHOR OF
Tre Harpy Boys: THe House on THE CLIFF
THE Harpy Boys: THE SEcketT of THE OLD Mn

ILLUSTRATED BY
Watter S. RoGers

NEW YORE

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Made in the United States of America

MYSTERY STORIES FOR BOYS

By FRANELIN W. DIXON
THE HARDY BOYS: THE TOWER TREASURE

THE HARDY BOYS: THE HOUSE ON THE OLIFF
THE HARDY BOYS: THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL

(Other Volumes in Prepsration)
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

Copyright, 1927, by
GROSSET & DUNLAP

CONTENTS

CHAPTER Pace
I Tue Sperm Demon. . . . . ° 1

It Tue Stopes Roapst™e . . «6 « « 99
TIL Traces or THETHIEF. «4 26 «© © «
IV THe How-Up . . .« © «© © »« 2
V Curr’s Auto Ho—n ~. «6 © © © « 388
VI Time Tracks. > © © 0© © « 45
VII THE Mansion RopBERY . +6 © « ec §63
VITT THe ARREST . « «© © © «© « 68
Re Harm . . . - e« @« e - 69

XK <AN ImMporTANT DISCOVERY. . © « o 7
XI Ms. Hanpy INVESTIGATES . «2 6 Cl wt eté«é
XI Days or Waitmng 2. ww ltl ll
XII In Poon QuarT™s . .« «© © o« « 107
XIV Bep Jackury . . « o o « « 116
XV Tue Cmer Gets a4 Boma . « 6 © « 129
XVI A CoNFESSION . . «© «© « « o 189
XVII THe SkakcH or THE TowRR . 1. +. «| 147

ii

XXIV

Contents

Taz New TowrR . . ¢
Tue Mystery DEEPENS . .«
THe FPuasH IN THE TOWER .
A New Ipga . e . .
THe SEARCH . . . .
ADELIA APPLEGATE’S COMPLIMENT

Tae Last or THE TowEE CaSE

PAGE
166

164
174
184
192
200
208

THE HARDY BOYS

THE TOWER
TREASURE

CHAPTER I

Tun Sprep Demon

‘¢ Arrer the help we gave dad on that forgery
case I guess he’ll begin to think we could be de-
tectives when we grow up.’’

‘Why shouldn’t wet Isn’t he one of the
most famous detectives in the country? And
aren’t we his sons? If the profession was good
enough for him to follow it should be good
enough for us.’’

Two bright-eyed boys on motorcycles were
speeding along a shore road in the sunshine of a
Morning in spring. It was Saturday and they
were enjoying a holiday from the Bayport high
school. The day was ideal for a motorcycle
trip and the lads were combining business with
pleasure by going on an errand to a near-by
village for their father.

The older of the two boys was a tall, dark
youth, about sixteen years of age. His name

1

2 The Tower Treasure

was Frank Hardy. The other boy, his compan-
ion on the motorcycle trip, was his brother Joe,
a year younger.

While there was a certain resemblance be-
tween the two lads, chiefly in the firm yet good-
humored expression of their mouths, in some
respects they differed greatly in appearance.
While Frank was dark, with straight, black
hair and brown eyes, his brother was pink-
cheeked, with fair, curly hair and blue eyes.

These were the Hardy boys, sons of Fenton
Hardy, an internationally famous detective who
had made a name for himself in the years he
had spent on the New York police force and who
was now, at the age of forty, handling his own
practice. The Hardy family lived in Bayport,
a city of about fifty thousand inhabitants, lo-
cated on Barmet Bay, three miles in from the
Atlantic, and here the Hardy boys attended
high school and dreamed of the days when they,
too, should be detectives like their father.

As they sped along the narrow shore road,
with the waves breaking on the rocks far below,
they discussed their chances of winning over
their parents to agreement with their ambition
to “ollow in the footsteps of their father. Like
most boys, they speculated frequently on the
occupation they should follow when they grew
up, and it had always seemed to them that noth-
ing offered so many possibilities of adventure

The Speed Demon 3

and excitement as the career of a detective.

‘‘But whenever we mention it to dad he just
langhs at us,’’ said Joe Hardy. ‘‘Tells us to
wait until we’re through school and then we
can think about being detectives.’’

‘‘Well, at least he’s more encouraging than
mother,’? remarked Frank. ‘‘She comes out
plump and plain and says she wants one of us
to be a doctor and the other a lawyer.’’

‘‘What a fine lawyer either of us would
make!’’ sniffed Joe. ‘‘Or a doctor, either! We
were both cut out to be detectives and dad
knows it.’?

‘‘As I was saying, the help we gave him in
that forgery case proves it. He didn’t say
much, but I’ll bet he’s been thinking a lot.’’

‘‘Of course we didn’t actually do very much
in that case,’’ Joe pointed out.

‘‘But we suggested something that led to a
clue, didn’t we? That’s as much a part of de-
tective work as anything else. Dad himself ad-
mnitted he would never have thought of examin-
ing the city tax receipts for that forged signa-
ture. It was just a lucky idea on our part, but
it proved to him that we can use our heads for
something more than to hang our hats on.”’

‘*Oh, I guess he’s convinced all right. Once
we get out of school he’ll probably give his per-
mission. Why, this is a good sign right now,
isn’t it? He asked us to deliver these papers

4 The Tower Treasure

for him in Willowville. He’s letting us help
him.’?

‘‘T’d rather get in on a real, good mystery,’’
said Frank. ‘‘It’s all right to help dad, but
if there’s no more excitement in it than deliver-
ing papers I’d rather start in studying to be a
lawyer and be done with it.’

‘“‘Never mind, Frank,’’ comforted his
brother. ‘‘We may get a mystery all of our
own to solve some day.’’

“Tf we do we'll show that Fenton Hardy’s
sons are worthy of his name. Qh boy, but what
wouldn’t I give to be as famous as dad! Why,
some of the biggest cases in the country are
turned over to him. That forgery case, for in-
stance. Fifty thousand dollars had been stolen
right from under the noses of the city officials
and all the auditors and city detectives and
private detectives they called in had to admit
that it was too deep for them.’’

“‘Then they called in dad and he cleared it up
in three days. Once he got suspicious of that
slick bookkeeper whom nobody had been sus-
pecting at all, it was all over but the shouting.
Got a confession out of him and everything.”’

“It was smooth work. I’m glad our sugges-
tion helped him. The case certainly got a lot of
attention in the papers.’’

‘And here we are,’’ said Joe, ‘‘plugging
along the shore road on a measly little errand

The Speed Demon 5

to deliver some legal papers at Willowville.
I’d rather be on the track of some diamond
thieves or smugglers—or something.’’

‘“Well, we havo to be satisfied, I suppose,’’
replied Frank, leaning farther over the handle-
bars. ‘‘Perhaps dad may give us a chance on
a real case some time.’’

‘‘Some time! I want to be on a real case
now!’’

The motorcycles roared along the narrow
road that skirted the bay. An embankment of
tumbled rocks and boulders sloped steeply to
the water below, and on the other side of the
road was a steep cliff. The roadway itself was
narrow, although it was wide enough to permit
two cars to meet and pass, and it wound about
in frequent curves and turnings. It was a road
that was not often traveled, for Willowville was
only a small village and this shore road was an
offshoot of the main highways to the north and
the west.

The Hardy boys dropped their discussion of
the probability that some day they would be-
come detectives, and for a while they rode on in
silence, occupied with the difficulties of keeping
to the road. For the road at this point was
dangerous, very rough and rutty, and it sloped
sharply upward so that the embankment leading
to the ocean far below became steeper and
steeper.

6 The Tower Treasure

“‘T shouldn’t want to go over the edge around
here,’’ remarked Frank, as he glanced down the
rugged slope.

‘It’s a hundred-foot drop. You’d be
smashed to pieces before you ever hit the
shore.’’

“Tll say! It’s best to stay in close to the
cliff. These curves are bad medicine.’’

The motorcycles took the next curve neatly,
and then the boys confronted a long, steep
slope. The rocky cliffs frowned on one side,
and the embankment jutted far down to the
tumbling waves below, so that the road was a
mere ribbon before them.

“Once we get to the top of the hill we'll be
all right. It’s all smooth sailing from there to
Willowville,’? remarked Frank, as the motor-
cycles commenced the climb.

Just then, above the sharp put-put of their
own motors, they heard the high humming roar
of an automobile approaching at great speed.
The car was not yet in sight, but there was no
mistaking the fact that it was coursing along
with the cut-out open and with no regard for
the speed laws.

‘‘What idiot is driving like that on this kind
of road!’’ exclaimed Frank. They looked back.

Even as he spoke the automobile flashed into
sight.

It came around the curve behind and so

The Speed Demon 7

swiftly did the driver take the dangerous turn
that two wheels were off the ground as the
car shot into view. A cloud of dust and stones
arose, the car veered violently from left to
right, and then it roared at headlong speed
down the slope.

The boys glimpsed a tense figure at the
wheel. How he kept the car on the road was
a miracle, for the racing automobile swung
from side to side. At one moment it would be
in imminent danger of crashing over the em-
bankment, down on the rocks below; the next
instant the car would be over on the other side
of the road, grazing the cliff.

*‘He’ll run us down!’’ shouted Joe, in alarm.
‘‘The idiot!’

Indeed, the position of the two lads was
perilous.

The roadway was narrow enough at any
time, and this speeding car was taking up every
inch of space. In a great cloud of dust it bore
directly down on the two motorcyclists. It
seemed to leap through the air. The front
wheels left a rut, the rear of the car skidded
violently about. By a twist of the wheel the
driver pulled the car back into the roadway
again just as it seemed about to plunge over
the embankment. It shot over toward the cliff,
swerved back again into the middle of the road-
way, and then shot ahead at terrific speed.

8 The Tower Treasure

Frank and Joe edged their motorcycles as
far to the right of the road as they dared. To
their horror they saw that the car was skid-
ding again.

The driver made no attempt to slacken speed.

The automobile came hurtling toward them!

CHAPTER It
Tur Stroten Roapster

Tur auto brakes squealed.

The driver of the oncoming car swung the
wheel viciously about. For a moment it ap-
peared that the wheels would not respond.
Then they gripped the gravel and the automo-
bile swerved, then shot past.

Bits of sand and gravel were flung about the
two boys as they crouched by their motorcycles
at the edge of the embankment. The car had
missed them only by inches!

Frank caught a glimpse of the driver, who
turned about at that moment and, in spite of
the speed at which the automobile was travel-
ing and in spite of the perils of the road,
shouted something they could not catch at them
and shook his fist.

The car was traveling at too great a speed to
enable the Jad to distinguish the driver’s fea-
tures, but he saw that the man was hatless and
that he had a shock of red hair blowing in the
wind.

9

10 The Tower Treasure

Then the automobile disappeared from sight
around the curve ahead, roaring away in a
cloud of dust.

‘‘The road hog!’’ gasped Joe, as soon as he
had recovered from his surprise.

‘‘He must be crazy!’? Frank exclaimed an-
grily. ‘‘Why, he might have pushed us both
right over the embankment!”’

‘‘At the rate he was going I don’t think he
cared whether he ran any one down or not.’’

Both boys were justifiably angry. On such
a narrow, treacherous road there was danger
enough when an automobile passed them travel-
ing at even a reasonable speed, but the reckless
and insane driving of the red-headed motorist
was nothing short of criminal.

“Tf we ever catch up to him I’m going to
give him a piece of my mind!’’ declared Frank.
‘‘Not content with almost running us down he
had to shake his fist at us.’’

‘“‘Road hog!’’ muttered Joe again. ‘‘Jail
is too good for the likes of him, If it was only
his own life he endangered it wouldn’t be so
bad. Good thing we only had motorcycles.
If we had been in another car there would have
been a smash-up, sure.’’

The boys resumed their journey and by the
time they had reached the curve ahead that
enabled them to see the village of Willowville
lying in a little valley along the bay beneath

The Stolen Roadster 11

them, there was no trace of the reckless
motorist.

Frank delivered the legal papers his father
had given to him, and then the boys had the
rest of the day to themselves,

“It’s too early to go back to Bayport just
now,’’ he said to Joe. ‘‘What say we go out
and visit Chet Morton?’’

‘‘Good idea,’’ agreed Joe. ‘‘He has often
asked us to come out and see him.”’

Chet Morton was a school chum of the Hardy
boys. His father was a real estate dealer with
an office in Bayport, but the family lived in the
country, about a mile from the city. Although
Willowville was some distance away, the boys
knew of a road that would take them across
country to the Morton home, and from there
they could return to Bayport. It would make
their journey longer, but they would have the
pleasure of visiting their chum. Chet was a
great favorite with all the boys, not the least of
the reasons for his popularity being the fact
that he had a roadster of his own, in which he
drove to school every day and with which he
was Very generous in giving rides to his friends
after school hours.

The Hardy boys drove along the country
roads in the spring sunlight, enjoying the free-
dom of their holiday as only boys can. When
they had reached a culvert not far from the

12 The Tower Treasure

Morton place Frank suddenly brought his
motorcycle to a stop and peered down into a
clump of bushes in the deep ditch.

““Somebody’s had a spill,’’ he remarked.

Down in the bushes lay an upturned automo-
bile. The car was a total wreck, and lay bottom
upward, a mass of tangled junk.

‘‘Must have been hitting an awful clip to
crumple up like that,’? Joe commented. ‘‘Per-
haps there’s some one underneath. Let’s go
and see.’’

The boys left their motorcycles by the road
and went down to the wrecked car. But there
was no sign of either driver or passengers.

“If any one was hurt they’ve been taken
away by now. Probably this wreck is a day
or so old,’’ said Frank. ‘‘Let’s go. We can’t
do any good here.’’

They left the wreckage and returned to the
road again, resuming their journey.

“TI thought at first it might be our red-
headed speed fiend,’’ said Frank. ‘‘If it was,
he was sure lucky to get out of it alive.’’

The boys gave little further thought to the
incident and before long they were in sight of
the Mortons’ house, a big, homelike, rambling
old farmhouse with an apple orchard at the
rear. When the boys drove down the lane they
saw a figure awaiting them at the barnyard

gate.

The Stolen Roadster 13

‘“‘That’s Chet,’’ said Frank. ‘‘I’m glad we
found him at home. I thought he might have
gone out in the car.’’

‘<Tt 1s strange,’’ Joe agreed. ‘‘On a holiday
like this he doesn’t usually stay around the
farm.’’

As they approached, they saw Chet leave the
gate and come down the lane to meet them.
Chet was one of the most popular boys at the
Bayport high school, one reason for his popu-
larity being his unfailing good nature and his
ability to see fun in almost everything. He
was full of jokes and good humor and was
Tarely seen without a smile on his plump,
freckled face.

But to-day the Hardy boys saw that there
was something wrong. Chet’s face had an
anxious expression, and as they brought their
motorcycles to a stop they saw that their
chum’s usually cheery face was clouded.

‘“What’s the matter?’’ asked Frank, as their
friend hastened up to them.

‘‘You’re just in time,’’ replied Chet hur-
riedly. ‘‘You didn’t meet a fellow driving my
roadster, did you?”’

The brothers looked at each other blankly.

“Your roadster? We’d recognize it any-
where. No, we didn’t see it,’’ said Joe.
‘*What’s happened?’’

‘It’s been stolen.’’

14 The Tower Treasure

“‘Stolen?’’

‘CAn auto thief stole it from the garage not
half an hour ago. He just went in as cool as
you please and made away with the car. The
hired man saw the roadster disappearing down
the lane, but he supposed I was in it so he
didn’t think anything of it. Then he saw me
out in the yard a little while later, so he got
suspicious—and the roadster was gone.’’

‘*Wasn’t it locked?’’

‘‘That’s the strange part of it. The car was
locked, although the garage door was open. I
can’t see how he got away with it.’’

‘‘A professional job,’? commented Frank,
‘“‘These auto thieves always carry scores of
keys with them. But we’re losing time here.
The only thing is to set out in pursuit and to
notify the police. The hired man didn’t see
which way the fellow went, did he?”’

‘ *No.”?

‘‘There is only the one road, and we didn’t
meet him, so he must have taken the turning to
the right at the end of the lane.’’

‘¢We'll chase him,’’ said Joe. ‘‘Climb onto
my bike, Chet. We'll get the thief yet.’’

‘“Wait a minute,’’ cried Frank suddenly. ‘‘T
have an idea! Joe, do you remember that car
we saw wrecked in the bushes?’’

‘“‘Sure.’?

‘‘Perhaps the driver stole the first automo-

The Stolen Roadster 15

bile he could lay his hands on after the wreck.’

‘What wreck was that?’’ asked Chet.

The Hardy boys told him of the wrecked car
they had found by the roadside. It had oc-
curred to Frank that perhaps the smash-up
might have occurred just a short while before
and that the driver of the wrecked car had re-
sumed his interrupted journey in a stolen au-
tomobile.

‘Tt sounds reasonable,’’ said Chet. ‘‘Let’s
go and take a look at this wreck. We can get
the license number and that may help us find
the name of the owner.’’

The motorcycles roared as the three chums
set out back along the road toward the place
where the upturned automobile had been seen
among the bushes. The boys lost no time in
reaching the place, for they realized that every
second was precious and that the longer they
delayed the greater was the advantage to the
car thief.

The car had not been disturbed and appar-
ently no one had been near it since the boys had
discovered the wreck. They parked their mo-
torcycles by the roadside and again went down
into the bushes to examine the wrecked car.

To their disappointment the car bore no li-
cense plates.

‘That looks suspicious,’’ said Frank.

‘It’s more than suspicious,’’ said Joe, who

16 The Tower Treasure

had withdrawn a little to one side and was
examining the automobile from the rear.
‘‘Don’t you remember seeing this car before,
Frank. It didn’t occur to me until you men-
tioned the matter of license plates.’’

*‘T have been wondering if this isn’t the same
car that passed us on the shore road at the
curve,’’ replied Frank slowly.

‘<Tt is the same car. There’s no doubt of it
in my mind. It didn’t have a license plate, I
noticed at the time, for I wanted to get the fel-
low’s number. And it was a touring car of
the same make as this.’’

“You're right, Joe. There’s no mistake.
The red-headed driver came to grief in the
ditch, just as we said he would, and then he
went on to the nearest farmhouse, which hap-
pened to be Chet’s place, and stole the first
car he saw.’’

‘“‘The busted car was the one the fellow was
running who nearly sent us over the cliff,’’ Joe
declared. ‘‘And it’s ten chances to one that
he’s the fellow who stole Chet’s roadster. And
he’s red-headed. We have those clues, any-
way.”’

‘¢ And he went on past our farmhouse instead
of turning back the way he came,’’ cried Chet.
‘‘Come on, fellows—let’s get after him! There
was only a little bit of gas in the roadster any-
way. Perhaps he’s stalled by this time.’’

The Stolen Roadster 17

Thrilling with the excitement of a chase, the
boys clambered back onto the motorcycles and
within a few moments a cloud of dust rose from
the road as the Hardy boys and Chet Morton
set out in swift pursuit of the red-headed auto-
mobile thief,

CHAPTER OI
Traces or THE THIEF

Cuer Morton’s roadster was a brilliant yel-
low, not easily mistaken, and the Hardy boys
were confident that it would not be difficult to
pick up the trail of the auto thief.

‘<The car is pretty well known around Bay-
port,’’ said Chet. ‘‘It was certainly a gay-
looking speed-wagon. Any one who saw it
would remember it.’’

‘‘Seems strange that a thief would take a car
like that,’’ remarked Frank. ‘‘Auto thieves
usually take cars of a standard make and
standard color. They’re easier to get rid of,
He would know that a car like yours could be
easily traced.’’

‘<T don’t think he stole the car to sell it,’’ Joe
pointed out. ‘‘Take it from me, that chap was
getting away from some place in a hurry and
when his own car was smashed he just took the
first one that came to hand. If we keep after
him before he has a chance to get rid of it we'll

run him to earth.’’
18

Traces of the Thief 19

A number of men in a hay-field near by at-
tracted Frank’s attention, and he brought his
motorcycle to a stop.

“I’m going to ask these chaps if they saw
him pass.’’

Frank scrambled over the fence and went
over to talk to the farmhands, who watched his
approach with curiosity.

‘‘Didn’t see a yellow roadster pass here
within the last hour, did you?’”’

One of them, a lanky old farmer with a sun-
burned nose, carefully laid down his scythe,
put his hand to his ear and shouted:

‘eWh???

‘‘Did you see a fellow pass along here in a
roadster?’’ Frank repeated, in a louder tone.

The farmer turned to his companions, re-
moved a plug of tobacco from the pocket of his
overalls and took a hearty chew.

‘‘Lad here want to know if we saw a road-
ster come by here!’’ he said slowly.

There were three other farmhands and all
gathered around. They put down their scythes
very deliberately, and the plug of tobacco was
duly passed around the group.

Frank waited.

‘A roadster, eh?’ asked one.

“A yellow roadster,’’ Frank told him.

One of the men removed his hat and mopped
his brow.

20 The Tower Treasure

‘‘Seems to me,’’ he observed, ‘‘I did see a
car come by here a while ago.”’

‘A yellow car?’’

‘‘No—twan’t a yeller car. It was a delivery
truck, if I remember rightly.’”’

Frank strove to conceal his impatience.

‘It was a roadster I was asking about. A
yellow roadster.’’

‘‘Not one of them there coops, hey?’’ asked
the oldest man in the group doubtfully. .

‘“‘No, not a coupé. A roadster.’’

‘‘Roadster, eh?’’? remarked the old farmer.
‘“‘That’s one of them there autymobiles with
just two seats and a little cupboard in the back,
eh?’?

‘‘My cousin has one,’’ observed another
member of the group. ‘‘He got it secondhand
in Bayport. I never could see why he bought
the doggone thing, for you can’t take the folks
out for a ride in it without havin’ ’em all
crowded somethin’ fearful. Give me the old
tourin’ car every time.’’

*‘Cain’t say as I agree with you,’’ returned
the old farmer. ‘‘What good’s a tourin’ car if
you want to haul a load of grain into town.
Once of them leetle trucks is the best, I’ve al-
ways thought. Then, if you want to go on a
picnic or anythin’ the family can all climb in
the back. You get the use out of a car like
that.’’

Traces of the Thief 21

‘“‘Nope. Nothin’ like a tourin’ car.”’

‘‘Rank extravagance, buyin’ tourin’ cars,’’
put in another. ‘‘Horse and wagon is good
enough for me.’’

‘“‘That’s what I say,’’ agreed the fourth.

‘*What with taxes the way they are—’’

‘“‘And last year’s crops wasn’t any too
good—’’

“T tell ye a tourin’ car is the only thing
nowadays—’”’

Somewhat astonished by the sudden turn the
argument had taken, Frank vainly tried to
inake himself heard above the uproar.

‘‘But about this roadster?’’ he asked. ‘Did
any of you see it?’’

But the four men in the field were not listen-
ing. Instead they were deep in a highly com-
plicated argument regarding the faults and
merits of various makes of cars and they paid
no further attention to the youth.

‘*Can’t afford to waste any more time here,’’
he said to himself, and turned away. At the
fence, he looked back. One of the farmhands
was shaking his fist beneath the nose of a com-
panion, while the other two were engrossed in
a heated discussion, Their voices floated across
the hayfield in the drowsy summer morning.

“Tt looks as if you started something,”’
laughed Joe, as his brother returned to the
motorcycle.

22 The Tower Treasure

““T certainly did. Just asked them if they
had seen a yellow roadster and they started to
fight about what was the best car for a farmer
to buy.’’
re didn’t they see the roadster?’’ asked

et.

“T don’t think so. If they had they would
have told me. I guess they were glad of an
excuse to quit work.’’

‘“Well, we’d better be getting on our way
then. We’ve lost enough time already.’’

So, while the four farmhands wrangled
loudly in the field, in an argument that bade
fair to last until dinner-time at least, the three
boys set out again in pursuit of the red-headed
auto thief.

They were approaching Bayport when they
saw a girl walking along the road ahead of
them. There was something familiar about her
appearance, and as they drew nearer Frank’s
face lighted up, for he recognized the girl as
Callie Shaw, who was in his own class at Bay-
port high school. Of all the girls at the school,
Callie was the one most greatly admired by
Frank. She was a pretty girl, with brown hair
and brown eyes, always neatly dressed, and
quick and vivacious in her manner.

As the boys brought their motorcycles to a
stop, Frank saw that Callie was not in her
usual bright and cheery humor. Under one

Traces of the Thief 23

arm she was carrying a parcel that had evi-
dently become untied and the paper of which
was badly torn. Her face was distressed and it
appeared that she had been crying.

Callie looked up and, recognizing the boys,
ran over toward them.

‘‘That awful man!’’ she wailed, even before
they had time to ask her what the matter was.
‘*He ran right over my parcel and smashed
nearly all the cakes and jelly I was bringing to
Mrs. Wills!’’

And with that she held out the torn parcel.
Frank knew that Callie, who was a generous
and good-hearted girl, had been in the habit of
taking little delicacies to a widow, Mrs. Wills,
who lived just on the outskirts of Bayport.

Now he saw that the parcel had been smashed
so that only one glass of jelly and a few of the
cakes had been left intact.

‘“What man, Callie??? he asked. ‘‘What
happened.’’

‘‘He ran right over my parcel!’’ Just then
Callie spied Chet Morton, and she pouted at
him. ‘‘He was a friend of yours, too, Chet
Morton, for he was driving your car!’’

*“My car!’’ gasped Chet.

‘““Your yellow roadster. He came driving
along this road at such a terrible speed that I
was frightened and I dropped my parcel. Then
he ran right over it.’’

24 The Tower Treasure

‘Why, Callie, that’s just the fellow we've
been looking for!’’? said Frank quickly.
‘‘Chet’s car has been stolen!”’

‘“Well, whoever stole it, came by here not ten
minutes ago,’’ said the girl. ‘‘ And he’s a mad-
man—by the way he was driving.’’

‘Why, we’re right on his trail then!’’ de-
clared Frank. ‘*He must have gone into Bay-
port.’?

“(He was heading that way,’’ Callie told
them. ‘‘But at the rate he was going, you'll
have a hard time catching him. Oh, Chet, I’m
80 sorry your car was stolen.’’

“Don’t worry. We'll get it back,’’ replied
Chet grimly.

‘‘Are you going back home, Callie?’’ asked
Frank.

“No, I’m going on up to Mrs. Wills’ place.
You needn’t bother to drive me up. It’s only
a few yards farther on. I know you’re anxious
to chase that awful man.’’

‘“We'll chase him, all right!’’? declared
Frank, as the motorcycles roared.

They bade good-bye to the girl and sped on
their way into Bayport, leaving Callie to con-
tinue her journey to the home of Mrs. Wills,
with the remains of the cakes and jelly over
which she had spent so much time and care.

They sped down the main street of Bayport
and headed directly to the police station, where

Traces of the Thief 25

they intended to report the theft of Chet’s car
and a description of the thief, assuming him to
be the red-headed man who had so nearly ron
down Frank and Joe on the shore road.

But when they reached the police station a
further surprise was in wait for them.

CHAPTER IV
TH Hoip-Up

Curr Ezna Corzic, of the Bayport police
force, was a burly, red-faced individual, much
given to telling long-winded stories.

Usually, Collig was to be found reclining in
a swivel chair in his office, with his feet on the
desk, reading the comic papers or polishing up
his numerous badges, but this day something
had happened to shake him out of his custom-
ary calm.

When the boys went into his office they found
the chief painfully writing in a huge notebook
and confronted by three excited figures. One
of these was Ike Harrity, the old ticket seller
at the city steamboat office. The others were
Detective Smuff, of the police force, and Po-
liceman Con Riley, both trying their best to
look important and composed.

Ike Harrity was frankly frightened. It was
plain that something very much out of the ordi-
nary had happened. Harrity was a timid and
inoffensive old chap who had perched on a

26

The Hold-Up 27

high stool behind the wicket at the steamboat
office day in and day out for as many years as
any one in Bayport could remember,

“T was just countin’ up the mornin’s re-
ceipts,’? he was saying, in a frightened and
high-pitched voice, ‘‘when in comes this fellow
and he sticks a revolver in front of my nose—’’

‘‘Just a minute,’’ interrupted the chief
grandly, as the boys entered. He dipped his
pen in the inkwell and poised it in the air, as
he peered at the lads over his spectacles.

‘“What are you boys doing here? Can’t you
see we’re busy?”?’

‘‘T came to report a theft,’’ said Chet Mor-
ton. ‘‘My roadster has been stolen.’’

‘“Why, it was a roadster this fellow drove
up to my office in!’’ cried Ike Harrity, ‘A
yellow roadster.’’

‘‘Hal’’ said Detective Smuff. ‘‘A clue!’’ He
immediately fished a notebook out of his pocket
and began rummaging around for a pencil.

‘‘Never mind, Detective Smuff,’’ observed
the chief heavily. ‘‘I’ll take any notes that are
needed.’’

Detective Smuff, duly squelched, put back his
notebook in confusion.

‘‘What fellow?’’ Frank asked. ‘‘Who drove
up to your office in a yellow roadster?’’

‘<The hold-up man,’’ declared Harrity. ‘I
was held up this morning. A fellow tried

28 The Tower Treasure

to steal the steamboat money on me.”

‘“‘Now just a minute. Just a minute!’ de-
manded the chief. ‘‘Let me say a word here.
The situation is this. A man drove up to the
steamboat office a little while ago and tried to
hold up Mr. Harrity. But a passenger hap-
pened to come into the office just then and the
fellow got frightened and ran away. Is that
right?’?

‘‘That’s right,’’ said Harrity.

“<T'll make a note of it,’? said the chief, suit-
ing the action to the word. When he had scrib-
bled industriously for some time he raised the
pen again and pointed it at Chet.

‘““Now you,’’ he observed, ‘‘say that some-
body stole a yellow roadster on you this morn-
ing.’?

‘‘Yes, sir! From our farm. He was seen
driving into Bayport just a little while ago.’’

The chief made a note of it.

*‘And you,’’ he said, pointing the pen at Ike
Harrity, ‘‘say the hold-up man drove up to the
office in a yellow roadster?’’

‘“‘That’s right, chief. That’s right. A yel-
low roadster, it was. And now that I come to
think of it, I’ve seen Chet Morton’s car be-
fore and it was the spittin’ image of it.’’

‘<Then,’? declared the chief, putting down his
pen with the air of one making a momentous
discovery, ‘‘it looks to me very much as if the

The Hold-Up 29

hold-up man and the fellow that stole the car
is one and the same man.”’

Detective Smuff wagged his head solemnly in
admiration of this feat of deduction. ‘‘I be-
lieve you’re right, chief,’’ he declared.

“Of course he’s right,’? said Frank. ‘‘It
couldn’t be any one else. The point is this—
where did the hold-up man go? Did he leave in
the car? Did any one follow him?’’

‘*He left in the car all right,’ said Harrity.
“‘But nobody followed him. I telephoned for
the police.’’

‘Did you notice the color of this man’s
hair?’’ asked Frank suddenly.

‘‘What’s that got to do with it?’’ asked De-
tective Smuff.

‘‘Never mind. It may have a great deal to do
with it. Did you notice the color of his hair?’’
repeated Frank, turning to Harrity.

“Tt was short,’’ said Harrity firmly. ‘‘Short
and dark,’’

Frank and Joe looked blankly at one an-
other.

‘‘Are you sure?’’ asked Joe.

“I’m positive,’ declared Harrity. ‘‘I was
face to face with him. He was a dark-haired
man, and his hair was cut awful short. I no-
ticed that.’’

‘*You’re sure he wasn’t red-headed?’’

**T’m sure of it.’’

30 The Tower Treasure

‘“What’s all this about?’’ asked Chief Collig
suspiciously. ‘‘What has the color of his hair
to do with it?’’

‘‘Well,’? admitted Frank, ‘‘we were pretty
sure that the man who stole Chet’s car had long,
red hair.’”’

‘*Hum!’? muttered the chief doubtfolly.
‘“‘Then if that was the case, the man who stole
the car and the man who tried to hold up the
office isn’t one and the same fellow after all.’’

*‘T don’t know what to make of it,’’ confessed
Frank.

Just then a short, nervous little man was
ushered into the office. He introduced himself
as the passenger who had gone into the
steamboat office at the time of the attempted
hold-up, and he presented himself in answer to
a call from the chief.

In reply to questions, the newcomer, who
gave the prosaic name of Henry J. Brown and
said he was from New York, told of entering
the office and seeing a man run away from the
wicket with a revolver in his hand.

‘¢What color was his hair? Did you notice?”’
asked Frank eagerly.

‘‘T can’t say I did,’’ answered the little man.
“Tt all happened so quickly I didn’t realize
that it was a hold-up until the man was out the
door. Then I saw him jump into the roadster
and drive away. But—wait a minute. I did

The Hold-Up 31

notice the color of his hair. Just as the car
was disappearing down the street. You
couldn’t help notice. He was red-headed. He
had long red hair.’’

Detective Smuff looked blankly at the chief
and the chief looked blankly at everybody else,
particularly at Henry J. Brown of New York.

‘<T knew it!’ declared Joe exultantly. ‘‘It’s
the same man!’’

“‘Tt can’t be the same man!’’ said the chief
wearily. ‘‘You boys don’t know what you’re
talking about, Mr. Harrity says he had short,
dark hair. Now how could he have short, dark
hair and long, red hair at the same time? I
ask you that! How could he?’’

Chief Collig propounded this query with the
expression of one who has triumphantly settled
all difficulties.

“He had short, dark hair!’’ said Harrity
doggedly.

‘cAnd I’m sure he had long, red hair!’’
shouted Henry J. Brown, very indignantly.
“‘Do you think I’m blind? Do you think I’d
tell a lie about it?’’

‘‘He had dark hair.’’

‘*Tt was red.”’

‘It was dark.’’

‘Tt wasn’t.’’

“Tt wast’?

“Stop it!?? commanded Chief Collig. ‘I

32 The Tower Treasure

don’t think either of you know what kind of
hair he had. Probably he was bald-headed.
But I’ll send word out to keep a watch for the
yellow roadster. I’ll notify the police in other
towns too. I guess that’s all that can be done
now.”’

And with that, the Hardy boys and Chet Mor-
ton had to be content.

When they left the office it was with little
hope that the thief or the car would be found.
Their misgivings were justified. When they
returned to see Chief Collig that night they
learned that no word had been received con-
cerning the yellow roadster from any of the
outlying towns or villages and that despite a
diligent search conducted by Detective Smuff
and other members of the Bayport force, the
roadster had not been located in the city.

CHAPTER V
Cuet’s Auto Horn

Fenton Harpy, the internationally famous
detective, was reading in the library of his
home that evening when his sons tapped on the
door.

Although he was a busy man, Mr. Hardy was
not the type of father who maintains an air of
aloofness from his family, the result being that
he was on as good terms with his boys as though
he were an elder brother.

‘Come in,’’ he shouted cheerfully, putting
aside his book, and when Frank and Joe en-
tered the room he motioned to a deep leather
sofa near the window. ‘‘Sit down. What
have you been doing all day? Burning up all
the roads in the country, I suppose?’’ He grin-
ned amiably at them and puffed vigorously at
his pipe.

‘Well, we didn’t travel very far to-day,
dad,’? Frank replied. ‘“We were—well, we—
we were—’’

‘‘Investigating,’’ prompted Joe.

33

34 The Tower Treasure

‘‘Aha!’’ exclaimed Mr. Hardy, in mock sur-
prise. ‘‘So my sons were investigating, eh?
What was it? A murder? A plot to blow up
the White House? A train wreck? Something
big, I hope.’’

‘‘No—not quite that bad,’’ admitted Frank.
“It was a car theft.’’

Mr. Hardy shook his head.

‘‘T’m disappointed in you,’’ he said solemnly.
“T really am. To think that sons of mine
should investigate a car theft. I thought you
wouldn’t bother about anything less than a
murder!’’? His eyes twinkled, and the Hardy
boys, who were accustomed to their father’s
good-natured banter, smiled back at him.

‘We weren’t just practicing detective work,
dad,’’ explained Frank. ‘‘You see, Chet Mor-
ton’s roadster was stolen this morning.’’

“Tg that so!’’ exclaimed Mr. Hardy, genu-
inely concerned. ‘‘Why, that’s too bad. Chet
was mighty proud of that car, wasn’t he?’’

“‘Yes, he was. And it hasn’t been found
yet.’”’

‘‘No trace of the thief?’’

‘‘He tried to hold up the steamboat ticket
office after he stole the car.’’

Mr. Hardy whistled.

‘Why you have been on a case worth while.
Tell me all about it.’’

He settled back in his chair while his sons

Chet’s Auto Horn 35

told him the story of the day’s doings. When
they told of the difference of opinion as to the
color of the man’s hair he did not laugh with
them, as they had expected, over the argument
between Harrity and Mr. Brown. On the con-
trary, he knitted his brows and his face wore
a serious expression.

“It wasn’t any ordinary auto thief you were
dealing with,’’ he said slowly. ‘‘I’ve no doubt
the man who tried to rob the ticket office and
the man who almost ran you down on the shore
Toad were one and the same. And the same
man stole Chet Morton’s car.’’

‘¢But how about the color of his hair? There
must have been two men,’’ said Joe.

‘‘Think sof I have my own theories, But
then—the average witness is very unreliable.
For instance, I’ll give you a test. You have
each seen Superintendent Norton of Bayport
high school—well, how often?’’

‘‘About two or three thousand times, I
guess,’? answered Frank.

‘‘Over a period of three years. Well, what
color is his hair?’’

Frank looked blankly at Joe.

‘Why, it’s—it’s—’’

Joe scratched his head.

“Brown, isn’t it?’?

“T think’s it’s black.’’

‘‘You see?’ said Mr. Hardy, smiling. ‘‘Your

36 The Tower Treasure

powers of observation have not been trained.
A good detective has to school himself to re-
member all sorts of little facts like that, until
it gets to be a habit with him. Both of you
have been looking at Mr. Norton for about
three years and you don’t know the color of
his hair. And if I asked you whether he was
in the habit of wearing laced shoes or buttoned
shoes you would be stumped altogether. As a
matter of fact, Mr. Norton is bald and he wears
a chestnut wig. You never noticed that? He
always wears buttoned shoes, he belongs to the
Elks, and his favorite author is Dickens.’’

The boys looked at their father in amazement.

‘*‘But, dad, you’ve never met him.’’

‘I’ve never been introduced to him, but I’ve
passed him on the street a number of times.
When your powers of observation have been
trained as mine have been it’s no trick at all to
take away a mental photograph of a man after
seeing him once. If you are specially observant
it isn’t hard to notice such details as that re-
garding the wig. A wig never has the same ap-
pearance as natural hair.’’

‘‘But how do you know he belongs to the
Elks?’? asked Joe.

‘‘He wears the lodge emblem as a watch
charm.’?’

*¢ And how do you kmow his favorite author is
Dickens ?’’

Chet’s Auto Horn 37

‘<On three separate occasions that I met Mr.
Norton I noticed that he was carrying a book.
Once it was ‘Oliver Twist.’ Another time it
was ‘A Tale of Two Cities.? The third time
it was ‘David Copperfield.’ So I judge that
his favorite author must be Dickens. Am I
right?”?

‘‘He always talks Dickens to us at school,’’
said Frank.

*<It’s simple enough, once you get the habit,’’
remarked Mr. Hardy. ‘‘You must train your-
selves to be observant, so that in time you will
automatically remember little details about
people you meet and places you’ve visited.
Now, if Harrity and Mr. Brown had been at
all observant, in spite of the fact that they
were surprised and frightened, they would
have been able to give the police a very thor-
ough description of the man who tried to hold
up the steamboat office. And if the man hap-
pened to be a professional thief the description
would have helped the officers ascertain who
he was, because once a man has served a
prison term his description is kept on file. As
it is, all we know about him is that he is prob-
ably red-headed. That isn’t very much to go
on.”?

“I’m afraid Chet hasnt much chance of re-
covering his roadster,’’ said Joe.

‘*You never can tell,’? remarked his father.

38 The Tower Treasure

‘Tt may turn up some time. Perhaps the thief
will get himself into trouble yet. Keep your
ears and eyes open. And now, if you don’t
mind, I have some reports to write—’’

Frank and Joe took the hint and left their
father to his work. But although they talked
long into the night on possible ways and means
of recovering Chet’s car, they were able to de-
vise no plan for tracing the thief.

And through the week that followed there
were no further clues. Chet had given up all
hope of seeing the roadster again.

“‘T sure miss the old bus,’’ he told the Hardy
boys after school on Friday afternoon. ‘‘I
have to take my chances on catching rides in
and out of town now. Why, last night I walked
half way home before a car came along and
gave me a lift.’’

‘‘Saturday will be a pretty dull day for you
now.’?

‘*You just bet your sweet life it will be dull!
Nothing to do but sit around the farm.’’

‘‘Better come with us to-morrow,’’ suggested
Joe. ‘‘A bunch of us are going fishing up near
the dam. You can meet us at the crossroads
near Willow River.’’

“Good idea!’’ said Chet. ‘‘What timet’’

‘“‘Ten o’clock.”’

‘‘Fine! I'll be there. Gosh, I see where I
get a ride home. There goes a hay wagon,

Chet’s Auto Horn 39

and. it’s heading right for the next farm.’’

A long wagon rumbled slowly toward the
boys. A lean and solemn farmer perched on
the front seat, half asleep. The horses dawdled
along.

‘‘That’s Lem Billers—the laziest man in
nine counties,’’ said Chet. ‘‘Watch me have
some fun with him.”’

Chet took from his pocket an automobile
horn. He had originally bought it for the road-
ster but had not had time to instal it before
the car was stolen. The horn was of a new
type, very small, yet it had a particularly rau-
cous shriek,

The Hardy boys grinned as they saw Chet
step out into the road and swing himself lightly
up on the back of the wagon. Mr. Billers was
bringing some supplies back to the farm and
Chet was hidden from view by a bag of flour.

As the wagon rumbled past, Chet sounded
the automobile horn.

It shrieked sharply and insistently.

Mr. Billers, being a lazy man, did not even
look behind. He simply tugged lightly at the
reins and the horses edged over to the side of
the road.

Having heard the horn, Mr. Billers expected
an automobile would pass. But when no car
flashed by he turned indolently in his seat and
looked behind. The roadway was clear. There

40 The Tower Treasure

was not an automobile in sight. He did not see
Chet, doubling up with laughter, on the back of
the wagon. He gazed doubtfully at the Hardy
boys, who were standing at the curb, trying to
conceal their smiles,

‘‘Could ’a’ swore I heard a horn,’’ grunted
Mr. Billers. Then he tugged at the lines and
brought the horses into the middle of the road
again.

Instantly the horn shrieked again. This
time it was even louder and more insistent than
before. It seemed that an automobile was
right behind the wagon, clamoring to pass.

Almost automatically, Mr. Billers yanked at
the reins and the horses again went to the side
of the road.

But again no car went by.

Again Mr. Billers looked behind. Again, to
his astonishment, he saw that the roadway was
clear.

‘‘Hanged if I didn’t think I heard a horn!’’
exclaimed Mr. Billers, greatly puzzled, as he
drove on again. ‘*My ears must be goin’ back
on me.”’

But in a few minutes the horn shrieked
again, Frank and Joe, who were walking
along the sidewalk, keeping abreast of the
wagon so as not to miss the fun, chuckled as
they saw Mr. Billers once more pull on the
Teins to guide the horses to the roadside. Then

Chet’s Auto Horn 41

the farmer recollected how he had been fooled
on the previous occasions and he looked quickly
around. But there was no car in sight.

Mr. Billers gazed down the roadway for a
long time. Then he sighed, with the air of one
whose patience has been long tried.

‘“Must be somethin’ the matter with my
ears,’’ he muttered, and drove on.

At this moment a luxurious sedan swept
around a corner and drew up close behind the
wagon. There was a chauffeur at the wheel
and he sounded his horn impatiently, for the
road was narrow and he was unable to get
past.

Lem Billers smiled darkly to himself and
paid no attention.

‘“‘There it goes again,’? he grumbled. ‘‘I
must be hearin’ things. Hang me if I’ll turn
out any more when there ain’t no car there to
turn out for.’’

The wagon continued in the center of the
toad. The chauffeur of the car glared at Lem
Billers’ back and sounded the horn again. Still
the farmer paid no attention.

Chet, limp with laughter, almost rolled off
the wagon. Frank and Joe could control their
mirth no longer, and leaned against a tele-
phone post with shouts of glee.

The chauffeur, believing that the boys were
laughing at him because he could not get past,

42 The Tower Treasure

became purple with anger. He sounded the
horn again and again, and finally, when Lem
Billers obstinately refused to pay any atten-
tion, he looked wildly about for a policeman.

As luck would have it, Constable Con Riley
was ambling along Main Street at that moment,
wondering if it would soon be supper time and
hoping his wife would serve corned beef and
cabbage that evening. He was aroused from
his trance by the chauffeur, who brought the
sedan to a stop and ran over to him.

‘‘Officer—arrest that man!’’? roared the
chauffeur, pointing to Lem Billers.

‘“What for?’’ demanded Con, taking off his
helmet and scratching his head.

‘‘Obstructing the traffic. He won’t let me
pass. I’ve been sounding my horn for the last
five minutes, and he won’t let me go past.’’

*‘Oh, ho!’’ said Constable Riley. ‘*‘He can’t
get away with that. Not while Con Riley’s on
the beat.’’? And with that he ran out into the
road, shouting to Lem Billers to stop.

At the constable’s command, the farmer
halted his team and gazed in amazement at the
chauffeur and the officer as they came running
up to him.

‘“Why won’t you let him pass?’’? demanded
the constable.

‘‘Don’t say you didn’t hear me?’’ roared the
chauffeur. ‘‘I sounded my horn fifty times.’’

Chet’s Auto Horn 43

‘“‘Sure, I heard a horn,’? admitted Billers.
‘‘But,’’ he added triumphantly, ‘‘I didn’t see
no car.’”’

‘‘Are you blind?’’ asked Riley. ‘‘There’s
the car.’’

Lem Billers looked behind. At sight of the
sedan, his jaw dropped.

‘*Well, I’ll be hanged!’? he declared sadly.
‘‘Tt must be my eyes is goin’ back on me. Not
my ears. I looked behind three times and I
couldn’t see no car.”’

‘‘Don’t believe him, officer,’’ said the chauf-
feur. ‘‘He didn’t even turn around.’’

“‘T did so!’’ contended Mr. Billers.

‘‘Then why didn’t you let me pass?”’

‘‘You didn’t have no car. I heard a horn
but I didn’t see no car.”?

Thereupon the argument grew fast and furi-
ous. Constable Riley was vastly puzzled. He
didn’t know what to make of it. Both the
chauffeur and Lem Billers appeared to be tell-
ing the truth, yet there was something wrong
somewhere. He took it all down in a note-
book, while Mr. Billers and the chauffeur grew
angrier and angrier at each other until finally
they were on the point of settling the matter
with their fists,

In the meantime there was a steadily length-
ening line of cars and wagons blocking the
Btreet, unable to get past because of the hay

44 The Tower Treasure

wagon and the sedan. <A constant chorus of
automobile horns sounded. Angry drivers
roared at the officer to clear the road.

Constable Riley threw up his hands in dis-
gust.

“‘Get on your way, both of you,’’ he com-
manded. ‘‘I can’t stand here arguin’ all after-
noon.’’

And while Lem Billers, wondering whether
his eyes or his ears had deceived him, drew his
horses to the side of the road and muttered
strong threats of vengeance against the chauf-
feur, the traffic tangle gradually abated. When
he finally resumed his journey, the Hardy boys
could see Chet Morton lying limply in the back
of the wagon with tears of laughter running
down his face. As for Frank and Joe, they
laughed all the way home and during supper
that evening their spasmodic outbursts of
chuckles puzzled their parents extremely.

CHAPTER VI
Trre Tracks

Next day was Saturday, and immediately
after breakfast the Hardy boys asked their
mother to make up a lunch for them, as they
intended to spend the day in the woods with a
number of their school chums.

Mrs. Hardy quickly made up a generous
package of sandwiches, not forgetting to slip
in several big slices of the boys’ favorite cake,
and the lads started out in the bright morning
sunshine, with the whole holiday before them.

They met the other boys, half a dozen in all,
on the road at the outskirts of the town and so,
whistling and chattering and telling jokes, the
group trudged along the dusty highway. Once
in a while they would explore along the fences
for berry bushes, and occasionally a friendly
scuffle would start, to end with both laughing
contestants covered with dust.

When they reached the crossroads Chet had
not yet appeared, so they rested in the shade
of the trees until at length the chubby youth

45

46 The Tower Treasure

came panting along the road, his lunch under
his arm.

“Tf I only had my roadster I wouldn’t be
late,’’ he said, as he came up to them. ‘‘I’ve
been so used to it that I’ve forgotten how long
it takes to walk this far.’’

‘‘Well, are we all set?’’ asked Frank.

“‘Hiverybody’s here. Where are we going?’’

‘“What do you say to Willow Grove?’’

‘All those in favor say ‘Aye’,’? demanded
Chet, and there was a chorus of ‘‘Aye’’ from
the crowd.

‘It’s unanimous,’’ Chet decided. ‘‘ Willow
Grove it shall be. Let’s go.’’

Willow Grove was about a mile farther on.
It was some distance in from the road, and
was on the banks of Willow River, from which
it got its name. It was an ideal place for a pic-
nic, and as it was somewhat early in the season
it was hardly likely that other parties from the
city would be in the grove that day.

Frank told the other boys about Chet’s ad-
venture with the auto horn and the story was
greeted with shouts of laughter, which were
redoubled when Chet told how he had !ater
jumped down from the wagon and run along
behind, shouting to Lem Billers to give him a
ride.

‘“‘Tt was a shame!’’ he confessed. ‘‘The poor
old chap reined in his horses and made me

Tire Tracks 47

come up and sit on the seat beside him. He
asked me if I had walked very far and then
he told me all about his argument with the po-
liceman and the chauffeur. I could hardly keep
my face straight.’’

When the boys reached the lane that led in
toward Willow Grove from the main road they
broke into a run and raced into the woods,
shouting and yelling like wild Indians. Once
in the friendly shade of the trees they capered
about in the joy of their Saturday freedom.
Chet took charge of the lunches and stored
them in a convenient clearing, and then began
the rush for the river.

The day passed in the usual fashion of such
days. They swam, they ate, they loafed about
under the trees, they played games at imminent
risk of life and limb, they explored the woods,
and otherwise enjoyed themselves with all the
happy energy of healthy lads. Joe Hardy,
who was an amateur naturalist in his way, went
roaming off by himself during the afternoon
while the other boys were enjoying their third
swim of the day, and penetrated deeper into
the woods.

He poked about in the undergrowth, examin-
ing various flowers and plants that came to his
attention, but discovered no specimens that he
had not seen before. He was just on the point
of going back to the other lads when he saw be-

48 The Tower Treasure

fore him a small clearing. It was a part of
the grove in which he had never been, so he
ploughed on through the bushes until he found
himself in a clearing that appeared to be part
of an abandoned roadway.

It was in a low-lying part of the grove and
the ground was wet. At one point it was
muddy, and in this mud Joe saw something
that aroused his curiosity.

‘‘Tire tracks, eh! There’s been an automo-
bile in here,’’ he muttered to himself. ‘I won-
der how on earth a car could get this far into
the woods!’’

Then he remembered his father’s remarks
on the value of developing his powers of obser-
vation, so he went over closer and examined
the marks in the mud.

‘‘That’s a strange tread,’’ he thought. ‘‘I’ve
never seen a tire mark quite like that before.’’

He gazed at it until he was sure that if he
ever saw a similar auto tread again he would
recognize it.

‘‘That just goes to prove that dad was
right,’ said Joe. ‘‘Probably I’ve seen auto
tires like that often, but I’ve never noticed the
markings, and now that I do notice one in par-
ticular it seems strange to me. But I wonder
what an automobile was doing in here and how
it came to get here in the first place!’’

However, he gave the matter little further

Tire Tracks 49

thought and retraced his steps through the
woods until he returned to the other boys, who
were getting dressed after their swim.

‘‘T thought automobiles weren’t allowed in
Willow Grove,’’ he said casually to Chet Mor-
ton.

‘‘Neither they are. You have to park just
inside the fence.’’

‘“Well, somebody brought a car right down
into the grove.’’

‘*They couldn’t. There’s no road.’’

‘“Well, there’s a sort of clearing over there,’’
said Joe, motioning in the direction from which
he had just returned. ‘‘It looks as if it had
been a road at one time.’’

‘“‘That’s probably the old creek road. It
hasn’t been used for years.’’

‘‘Well, it was used just this week. I saw
the marks of an automobile tire over there not
ten minutes ago. And it was a mighty peculiar
tread, too. Like this—,’’ and Joe commenced
to draw a replica of the design in the sand, us-
ing a thin stick of wood as a pencil.

Chet Morton stared.

‘“Why,’’ he exclaimed, ‘‘there’s only one car
in the city has tires like that!”’

‘Whose cart’?

‘‘Mine!’’ exclaimed Chet, springing to his
feet. ‘‘“Where ts this road you found?’’

Joe Hardy quickly led the way and all the

50 The Tower Treasure

other boys came trooping along behind, the
whole band thrown into a state of great excite-
ment by this unexpected discovery. They all
knew that Chet’s car was of an unusual make
and that the tires were distinctive. When they
reached the clearing and Chet had examined
the imprint in the mud he exclaimed:

‘‘There’s no mistake about it! My car has
been here! No other car in the city has a
tread like that!’’

‘‘Perhaps the car is still around here,’’ sug-
gested Frank quickly. ‘‘For all we can tell,
the thief may have abandoned it and picked
this road as a good place to hide it.’’

‘It would be an ideal place,’’ agreed Chet.
‘‘This road leads off the main highway, and it
isn’t often used. Let’s take a look around,
anyway.’’

The boys quickly scattered, some taking one
side of the road, the rest taking the other.

For a while the search continued without
success, but at last Frank and Chet, who were
following the abandoned road farther down,
gave a simultaneous cry.

‘“Here’s a bypath!”’

Before them was a narrow roadway, over-
grown with weeds and low bushes that almost
hid it from view. It led from the abandoned
road into the very depths of the wood. With-
out hesitation the two boys plunged into it.

Tire Tracks 51

The narrow roadway widened out farther
on, then wound about a heavy clump of trees,
until it came to an end in a wide clearing.

And in the clearing stood Chet Morton’s lost
roadster!

‘“*My car!’ yelled Chet, in delight.

His shout was heard by all the other boys,
and the sound of snapping twigs and crackling
branches soon told Frank and Chet that the
others were losing no time in reaching the
scene,

Chet’s delight was boundless. He examined
the car with minute care, in every particular,
while the other boys crowded about. At last
he straightened up with a smile of satisfaction.

‘‘She hasn’t been damaged a bit. All ready
to run. The thief just hid the old bus in here
and made a getaway. Come on, fellows, we
don’t walk back home to-day. We ride.’’

He clamored into the car and in a few sec-
onds the engine roared. There was sufficient
Toom in the clearing to permit him to turn the
Toadster about, and when he swung the car
around and headed up the bypath the boys
gave a cheer and hastened to clamber on board.

Imrching and swaying, the roadster reached
the abandoned road and from there it was an
easy run to the main highway. In spite of the
fact that it had been left in the bush for prob-
ably a week, the roadster was in perfect con-

52 The Tower Treasure

dition and the engine ran smoothly. Joe was
given the seat of honor beside the driver, be-
cause he had discovered the tire marks that
had led to the recovery of the car, and the
other boys distributed themselves as _ best
they could. They clung to the running boards,
hung precariously to the back, and one lad even
straddled the hood. In this manner the trium-
phal procession returned to Bayport.

But as the cheering lads came down the main
street they noticed that there was an unwonted
air of excitement in the town. People were
standing on the street corners in little groups,
talking earnestly, and when the boys spied De-
tective Smuff, of the police force, striding along
with a portentous frown, they called out to him.

‘‘What’s on your mind to-day, detective?
Chet got his car back!’’

“I’ve got something more important than
stolen cars to worry about,’’ declared Detec-
tive Smuff. ‘‘The Tower Mansion has been
robbed.’’

CHAPTER VI
Tue Mansion Rossery

Towrer Mansion was one of the show places
of Bayport. Few people in the city had ever
been permitted to enter the place and the ad-
miration the palatial building excited was
solely by reason of its exterior appearance,
but the first thing a newcomer to Bayport usu-
ally asked was, ‘‘Who owns that magnificent
house on the hill?’’

It was an immense, rambling stone structure
situated on the top of the hill overlooking the
bay, and it could be seen for miles, silhouetted
against the skyline, like some ancient feudal
castle. This resemblance to a castle was
heightened by the fact that at each end of the
mansion rose a high tower.

One of these towers had been built when the
mansion was first erected by Major Applegate,
an eccentric old army man who had made mil-
lions by lucky real estate deals and had laid
the foundation for the Applegate fortune.

The mansion had been the admiration of its
53

54 The Tower Treasure

day, and in its time had seen much gaiety.

But as the years passed the Applegate
family became scattered until at last there re-
Imained but Hurd Applegate and his sister
Adelia, who continued living in the vast and
lonely old mansion.

Hurd Applegate was a man of about sixty
years of age. He was a tall, stooped man,
eccentric in his ways, and his life seemed to be
devoted to the collection of rare stamps. He
was an authority on the subject, and nothing
else in life appeared to hold a great deal of
interest for him. The only visitors at Tower
Mansion were philatelists from New York or
experts desirous of appraising some new
stamp that Hurd Applegate had managed to
secure from some remote part of the world.
It had often been said in Bayport that Hurd
Applegate had accomplished only two things
in life—he had collected stamps and he had
built a new tower on the mansion. The new
tower, a duplicate of the original tower at the
opposite end of the great building, had been
built but a few years—even well within the
memory of the two Hardy boys.

Adelia Applegate, who lived in the Tower
Mansion with her brother, was a maiden lady
of uncertain years. The records in Bayport’s
city hall gave her age as fifty-five, but Miss
Applegate admitted it to no one. She was as

The Mansion Robbery 55

eccentric as her brother, and lived very much
to herself, being seldom seen in the city. She
was at one time a blonde, but she had endeav-
ored to retain her youth by dyeing her hair,
with the result that it was now a sort of dusty
black, Chet Morton was fond of saying that
‘‘Miss Applegate used to be a blonde but she
dyed.’’

She dressed in all colors of the rainbow, and
her infrequent excursions into Bayport stores,
when she would order the clerks about like so
many soldiers, shouting at them in her high,
cracked voice, had become historic on account
of the wild and colorful garments she would
carry off with her.

These eccentric people were reputed to be
enormously wealthy, although they lived
simply and kept only a few servants. So when
Hurd Applegate came into the Bayport police
station that afternoon and reported that the
safe in his library had been broken open and
that it had been robbed of all the securities and
jewels it contained, the rumors that soon
spread about the city magnified the actual loss
until it became common talk that the loss
amounted anywhere from one hundred thou-
sand to a million dollars.

When Frank and Joe Hardy arrived home
that evening they met Hurd Applegate just
leaving the house. The man tapped the steps

56 The Tower Treasure

with his cane as he came out and when he met
the boys he gave them an abrupt and piercing
glance.

“Good day!’ he growled, in a grudging
manner, and went on his way.

‘‘He must have been asking dad to take up
the case,’’ said Frank to his brother, as soon
as Hurd Applegate was out of earshot.

They hurried into the house, eager to find
out more about the robbery, and in the hall-
way they met Fenton Hardy, who had just seen
Mr. Applegate to the door.

“TJ hear the Tower Mansion was robbed,’’
said Joe.

Mr. Hardy nodded.

““Yes—Mr, Applegate was just here. He
wants me to handle the case.’’

‘How much was taken?’’

‘‘Quite curious, aren’t you?’’ remarked Mr.
Hardy, with a smile. ‘‘Well, I don’t suppose
it will do any harm to tell you. The safe in
the Applegate library was opened. The loss
will be about forty thousand dollars, I be-
lieve.’’

‘“We heard it was over a hundred thov-
sand!’’ exclaimed Joe.

‘Rumors always exaggerate. Forty thou-
sand dollars is the figure Mr. Applegate puts
it at. And it’s quite enough, too, All in
securities and jewels.’’

The Mansion Robbery 57

‘Whew!’? exclaimed Frank, ‘Quite a haul!
When did it happen?’’

‘‘Hither last night or this morning. He did
not get up until after ten o’clock this morning
and he did not go into the library until nearly
noon. Then he discovered the theft.’’

‘How was the safe opened?’’

“<Tt was either opened by some one who knew
the combination or else by a very clever crook.
It wasn’t dynamited at all. I’m going up to
the house in a few minutes. Mr. Applegate is
to call for me.’’

“‘Can’t we go along?’’ asked Joe eagerly.

Mr. Hardy looked at his sons with a smile.

‘<Well, if you are so anxious to be detectives,
I suppose it is about as good a chance as any
to watch a crime investigation from the inside.
If Mr. Applegate doesn’t object, I suppose you
may come along.’’

In a few minutes an automobile drew up be-
fore the Hardy home. Mr. Applegate was sit-
ting in the rear seat, resting his chin on his
cane, When Mr. Hardy mentioned the boys’
request he merely grunted assent, so Joe and
Frank clambered into the car with their father.
They were tremendously excited at the pros-
pect of being ‘‘on the inside’’ in the mysterious
case.

While the car bowled along over the city
roads toward the Tower Mansion that was

58 The Tower Treasure

gloomily silhouetted against the sky, Mr.
Hardy and Mr. Applegate discussed the rob-
bery.

“I don’t really need a detective in this
case,’’ snapped Hurd Applegate. ‘‘Don’t need
one at all. It’s as clear as the nose on your
face. I know who took the stuff. But I can’t
prove it.”’

‘“Whom do you suspect?’’ asked Fenton
Hardy.

‘““Only one man in the world could have
taken it. Robinson!’’

‘‘Robinson?’’

‘Yes, Henry Robinson—the caretaker.
He’s the man.’’

The Hardy boys looked at one another in
consternation.

Henry Robinson, the caretaker of the
Tower Mansion, was the father of one of their
closest chums. Perry Robinson, nick-named
‘‘Slim’’, was to have accompanied them on their
jaunt to the woods that day but had failed to
appear. The reason was now evident.

But that Henry Robinson should be accused
of the robbery seemed absurd. The boys had
met Slim’s father and he had appeared to them
as a good-natured, easy-going man, the soul of
truth and honesty.

“‘T don’t believe it,’? whispered Frank,

‘‘Neither do I,’’ returned his brother.

The Mansion Robbery 59

‘“What makes you suspect Robinson?’’
asked Mr. Hardy of Hurd Applegate.

‘‘He’s the only person besides my sister and
me who ever saw that safe opened and closed.
He could have learned the combination if he
kept his eyes and ears open. I believe he did.’’

‘‘But is that your only reason for suspecting
him?’

‘(More than that. This morning he paid off
a note at the bank. It was a note for nine hun-
dred dollars, and I know for a fact that he
didn’t have more than one hundred dollars to
his name a few days ago. The Robinsons have
been hard up, for they had sickness in the fam-
ily last winter and Henry Robinson has had a
hard time meeting his debts since then. Now
where did he raise nine hundred dollars so
suddenly ?”’

‘‘Perhaps he has a good explanation,’’ said
Mr. Hardy mildly. ‘‘It doesn’t do to jump at
conclusions.’’

*‘Oh, he'll have an explanation all right!’’
sniffed Mr. Applegate. ‘‘But it will have to be
a mighty good one to satisfy me.’’

‘‘Yuckily, he’ll not have to satisfy Mr. Apple-
gate, but will have to convince a jury—if it gets
that far,’’ whispered Joe in his brother’s ear.

The automobile was speeding up the wide
driveway that led to Tower Mansion, and
within a few minutes it drew up at the front

60 The Tower Treasure

entrance. Mr. Applegate dismissed the driver,
and Mr. Hardy and the two boys accompanied
the eccentric man into the house.

Nothing had been disturbed in the library
since the discovery of the theft. Mr. Hardy
examined the open safe, then drew a magnify-
ing glass from his pocket and with minute care
inspected the dial of the combination lock.
Then he examined the windows, the door-
knobs, all places where there might be finger-
prints. At last he shook his head.

‘¢A smooth job,’’ he observed. ‘‘The fellow
must have worn gloves. Not a finger-print in
the room.’’

*““No need of looking for finger-prints,’’
said Applegate. ‘‘It was Robinson—that’s
who it was.’’

‘Better send for him,’’ advised Mr. Hardy.
**T’d like to ask him a few questions.’’

Mr. Applegate rang for one of the servants
and instructed him to tell Mr. Robinson he was
wanted in the library at once. Mr. Hardy
glanced at the boys.

‘‘You had better wait in the hallway,’’ he
suggested. ‘‘I want to ask some questions,
and it might embarrass Mr. Robinson if you
were here.’’

The lads readily withdrew, and in the hall-
way they met Henry Robinson, the caretaker,
and his son Perry. Mr. Robinson was calm

The Mansion Robbery 61

but pale, and at the doorway he patted his son
on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry, son,’”’ he said. ‘It'll be all
right.’? With that he entered the library.
Slim Robinson turned to his two chums.
‘‘My dad is innocent!’’ he cried.

CHAPTER VIII
Tur ARnEst

THErRm was something in Perry Robinson’s
tone that made Frank and Joe extremely sorry
for their chum, for it seemed that the boy real-
ized that the case looked black against his
father.

Although the Hardy lads realized that it was
only natural that Perry should stand up for
his father, they shared some of his conviction
that Mr. Robinson was not guilty.

‘“‘Of course he’s innocent,’? agreed Frank.
“(He'll be able to clear himself all right,
Perry.’’

‘“‘But everything looks pretty black against
him,’’ said Perry, who was pale and shaken.
‘‘Unless your father can catch the real thief
I’m afraid dad will be blamed for it.’’

‘<Everybody knows your father is honest,’’
said Joe consolingly. ‘*He has a good record
—even Applegate will have to admit that.’’

‘CA good record won’t help him very much

if he is blamed for this and can’t clear himself,
62

The Arrest 63

And dad admits that he did know the combina-
tion of the safe.’’

‘*He knew it?’

‘‘ Accidentally. He was cleaning the library
fireplace one day when he found a slip of paper
with numbers marked on it. The combination
was 8o simple that any one could remember it
if he read it once. Dad didn’t realize what it
was until he had studied it a while, and then
he put it back on Mr. Applegate’s desk. The
window was open and the breeze had blown the
paper to the floor.’”’

*‘Does Applegate know that?’’

*‘Not yet. But dad is going to tell him now.
He says he knows it will look bad for him, but
he’s going to tell the truth about it. He knew
the combination, although of course he would
never think of using it.’’

From the library came the dull hum of
voices. The harsh tones of Hurd Applegate
occasionally rose above the murmur of conver-
sation and once the boys heard Mr. Robinson’s
voice rise sharply.

“I didn’t do it. I tell you I didn’t take that
money.’’

‘‘Then where did you get the nine hundred
you paid on that note?’’ demanded Mr, Apple-
gate.

There was silence for a while.

‘‘Where did you get it?’’

64 The Tower Treasure

‘Tm not at liberty to tell you.”

*¢You won't tell?’’

oT can 9?

‘“Why not?”’

“‘T got the money honestly—that’s all I can
say about it.’’

“‘Oh, ho!’’ exclaimed Applegate. ‘‘You got
the money honestly, yet you can’t tell me where
it came from! That’s very likely, isn’t it? If
you got it honestly you shouldn’t be ashamed
to tell where you got it.’’

“I’m not ashamed. But I’m not at liberty
to tell.’’

‘“‘Mighty funny thing that you should get
nine hundred dollars so quickly. You were
pretty hard up last week, weren’t you? Had
to ask for an advance on your month’s wages.’’

“‘T admit it.”

*¢And then the day of this robbery you sud-
denly have nine hundred dollars that you can’t
explain.’’

Mr. Hardy’s calm voice broke in.

*‘Of course, I don’t like to pry into your
private affairs, Mr. Robinson,’’ he said; ‘‘but
it would be best if you could clear up this mat-
ter of the money. You must admit yourself
that it doesn’t look promising.’’

“‘T know it looks bad,’’ replied the caretaker
doggedly. ‘‘But I can’t tell you where that
money came from.,’’

The Arrest 65

‘¢And you admit knowing the combination of
the safe, too!’’ broke in Applegate. ‘‘I didn’t
know that before. Why didn’t you tell me?”’

“‘T didn’t consider it important enough. I
had found the combination by accident and I
had no intention of using it. As a matter of
fact, I don’t think I could remember it accu-
rately right now. I just put the paper back
and decided to say nothing about it, to save
trouble.’’

‘‘And yet you come and tell me about it
now!’’

“‘T have nothing to conceal. If I had taken
the money I wouldn’t very likely be telling you
now that I knew the combination.’’

‘‘Yes,”? agreed Mr. Hardy, ‘‘that’s a point
in your favor.’’

“Ts it?’? asked Applegate. ‘‘You’re just
clever enough to think up a trick like that,
Robinson. You think that if you come to me
now and admit you knew the combination I’ll
believe that you are so honest that you couldn’t
have committed this robbery. Very clever.
But not clever enough. There’s enough evi-
dence right here and now to convict you, and
I’m not going to delay another minute.’’

There was the sound of a telephone receiver
being lifted, and then Applegate’s voice con-
tinned—

‘Police station.”? After a short wait, he

66 The Tower Treasure

went on. ‘‘Hello—police station?—This is
Applegate speaking—Applegate—Hurd Apple-
gate.—Well, I think we’ve found our man.—In
that robbery.—Yes, Robinson.—You thought so,
eh ?—So did I, but I wasn’t sure.—He has prac-
tically convicted himself by his own story.—
Yes, I want him arrested.—You’ll be up right
away !—Fine.—Good-bye.’’

The telephone tinkled.

‘‘You’re not going to have me arrested, Mr.
Applegate?’’

‘“Why not? You took the money!’’

‘“‘But I’m innocent! I swear it! Haven’t
I always been honest, ever since I came to work
for you? Have you ever had any fault to find
with me???’

‘Not until now,’’ returned Applegate

y.

‘It might have been better to wait a while,’’
suggested Mr. Hardy mildly. ‘‘Of course, it is
entirely in your hands, Mr. Applegate, and I
admit the case looks rather bad against Mr.
Robinson. But perhaps some more evidence
may turn up.’’

‘“What more evidence do we want? The
man’s guilty. It’s as plain as the nose on your
face. If he wants to return the rest of the
jewels and securities I’ll see what can be done
toward having the charge reduced—but that’s
all.”’

The Arrest 67

“But I can’t return them! I didn’t take
them !’?

‘‘I suppose you have them hidden safely
away by now, hoping to get them when you get
out of penitentiary, eh? It’ll be a long time,
Robinson—a long time.’’

In the hallway, the boys listened in growing
excitement. The case had taken an abrupt and
tragic turn. Both the Hardy boys were sorry
for their chum Slim, who looked as though he
might collapse under the strain.

‘‘He’s innocent,’? muttered the boy, over
and over again. ‘‘I know he’s innocent. They
can’t arrest him. My dad never stole a dollar
in his life!’?

Frank patted him on the shoulder.

‘“Brace up, old chap,’’ he advised. ‘‘It looks
pretty bad just now, but your father will be
able to clear himself, never fear.’’

“‘I—I'll have to tell mother—’’, stammered
Slim. ‘This will break her heart. And my
sisters—”’

Frank and Joe led him down through the
hallway and along a corridor that led to a
wing of the mansion, where the Robinson fam-
ily had rooms. There, in a neat, but sparsely
furnished apartment, they found Mrs. Robin-
son, a gentle, kindly-faced woman, somewhat
lame, who was sitting anxiously in a chair by
the window. Her two daughters, Paula and

68 The Tower Treasure

Tessie, twins, were by her side, and all looked
up in expectation as the lads came in.

‘“What news, son?’’ asked Mrs. Robinson
bravely, after she had greeted the Hardy boys.

*‘Bad, mother.”’

‘‘They’re not—they’re not—arresting him?’’
cried Paula, springing forward.

Perry nodded, dumbly.

‘‘But they can’t!’ cried Tessie protestingly.
‘*He’s innocent! He couldn’t do anything like
that! It’s wrong—’’

Mrs. Robinson began to cry, quite silently.
Perry went over to his mother and awkwardly
patted her shoulder, his face white and stern.
The twins gazed at one another with desperate
eyes,

Frank and Joe, their hearts too full for utter-
ance, withdrew softly from the room.

CHAPTER Ix
Rep Ham

Tue arrest of Henry Robinson caused a sen-
sation in Bayport, for the caretaker of Tower
Mansion was one of the last men in the city
whom one would have suspected of dishonesty.
There was a great deal of public sympathy for
the family, but little for the accused, as most
people seemed to take it for granted that he
would not have been arrested if he had not had
something to do with the crime.

But the Hardy boys were not satisfied.

‘I’m positive Henry Robinson is innocent,’®
said Frank to his brother the next morning.
‘‘There’s a great deal about this case that
hasn’t come to the surface yet. I have a sort
of sneaking idea that the man who stole Chet
Morton’s car had something to do with this.’’

‘‘He was a criminal—that much is certain,”’
agreed Joe. ‘‘He stole an automobile and he
tried to hold up the ticket office.”’

‘‘I’d like to go back to the place where we

saw the wrecked car. You never know what
69

70 The Tower Treasure

evidence we might find. There might be some-
thing there that would identify the chap.”’

“T’m with you. Let’s go this morning.’’

So within the hour the boys were on their
motorcycles, speeding along the shore road
toward the place where the speed fiend’s car
had been wrecked in the bushes.

“<T’d certainly like to do something to help
clear Mr. Robinson,’’ said Frank. ‘‘It’s pretty
tough on Slim and his mother and sisters.’?

‘“We probably won’t be able to do very much,
If dad can’t clear him, I don’t think we can
help a great deal. But it’s worth while trying.’’

“Tt sure is, And I’ve had a hunch all along
that we didn’t investigate the wreck of that
car closely enough.’’

‘‘Well, we’ll make a thorough job of it this
time.’?

When the boys reached the scene of the
wreck they found the smashed car just where
they had seen it last. The tires had been taken
and some of the accessories that had escaped
destruction had been stripped from the auto-
mobile, but the car had been so badly smashed
that there were few evidences of disturbance.

Leaving their motorcycles by the side of the
road, the lads plunged down into the bushes
and busied themselves examining the wreck-
age. Joe hunted through the side pockets in
the hope that there might be papers or some

Red Hair 71

other means of identification, but in this he was
disappointed. There were no license plates, but
Frank managed to secure the engine number,
and this he jotted down in a notebook he carried.

‘‘Perhaps this will give us a clue. Although
T have an idea that the fellow got this car in the
same way he got Chet’s. It’s probably a stolen
automobile.”’

For a time they rammaged around among the
wreckage without success. Then, at last, Frank
gave a low cry.

‘‘Here’s something !’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘Look!’*

Joe came over to where he was standing,
and Frank plucked something from the front
seat of the wrecked car.

‘*Red hair!’

In his hand Frank held a small tuft of vivid
red hair. It was very coarse in texture, and
the surprising part of it was that the hairs were
not separate but were attached to a sort of
tough linen.

‘‘Why, it’s part of a wig!’’ said Frank, ex-
amining the hair more closely.

‘You’re right,’’ agreed his brother. ‘‘No
human hair ever grew like that.’’

‘Part of the fellow’s wig was torn when the
car was smashed up!’’

‘¢And that explains why Harrity and his wit-
ness couldn’t agree on the color of the fellow’s
hair!’’ exclaimed Joe, in excitement.

72 The Tower Treasure

“‘T see it now! The man didn’t wear the wig
when he held up the steamboat office, and the
minute he reached the car he put it on again.
That explains why Brown saw a red-haired
man driving away in Chet’s roadster and why
Harrity was positive that man wasn’t red-
headed.”’

‘“‘That’s a real clue!’ exclaimed Joe. ‘“We
ought to tell dad about this.’’

‘‘And we will, too,’? said Frank, beginning
to scramble through the bushes back toward the
Toad.

He put the fragment of the red wig carefully
in an inner pocket, and then the Hardy boys
started back toward Bayport. The clue was
slight, of course, but, still, it served to clear up
the disagreement as to the color of the hold-up
man’s hair. It also served to prove conclusively
that the man who had passed Frank and Joe on
the shore road at such break-neck speed, and
who had later wrecked his car, was the same
man who had stolen Chet’s roadster and had
attempted to hold up the steamboat ticket
office.

‘*T guess dad will think we aren’t such poor
detectives after all,’? Joe exulted, as they
brought their motorcycles to a stop in the yard
of the Hardy home.

Their father was in the library, but in their
excitement the lads forgot to rap at the door

Red Hair 13

and rushed into the room without ceremony.

‘Dad, we’ve found a clue!’’ cried Joe, when
he saw his father sitting at the huge oak desk
Then he fell back, embarrassed, when he saw
that there was some one else in the room.

‘‘Beg pardon!’’ said Frank, and the boys
would have retreated, but Mr. Hardy’s visitor
turned around and they saw that it was Perry
Robinson.

“‘Tt’s only me,’’ said Slim. ‘Don’t go.’’

‘‘Perry has been trying to shed a little more
light on the Tower robbery,’’ explained Mr.
Hardy. ‘‘But what is this clue you are talking
oft”?

“Tt isn’t about the robbery,’’ replied Frank.
‘¢ Although it might have something to do with
it, for all we know. It’s about the red-headed
man who stole Chet’s car and who tried to hold
up the steamboat ticket office.’’

‘*What about him?”’

‘“This!’? said Frank, taking the fragment of
red hair from his pocket and showing it to his
father. ‘‘The fellow wore a wig.’’

Mr. Hardy examined the little tuft of hair
closely.

‘Where did you find it?’’ he asked.

‘'In the wreckage of that smashed car.’’

Mr. Hardy nodded.

‘That seems to link up a pretty good chain
of evidence. The man who passed you on the

74 The Tower Treasure

shore road wrecked his car, then stole Chet’s
roadster and afterward tried to hold up the
ticket office. When he failed in that he aban-
doned the roadster. He wore a red wig that
he took off occasionally to confuse pursuers.
If we could only find the wig we might be able
to get further information.”’

“Do you think it might help us solve the
Tower robbery?’’ asked Perry.

“‘Possibly.”’

‘‘The man was evidently a professional
thief,’? explained Frank. ‘‘If he was smart
enough to wear a wig he was evidently an old-
timer at the game. And if he failed in the ticket
office hold-up, who knows but what he might
have been hanging around the city waiting for
another chance.’’

‘Gosh, you may be right, at that!’’ exclaimed
Perry. ‘‘I was just telling your father that I
saw a strange man lurking about the grounds
of Tower Mansion two days before the robbery.
I didn’t think anything of it at the time, and in
the shock of dad’s arrest I forgot about it.”’

“Did you get a good look at him? Could you
describe him?’’ asked the detective.

‘I’m afraid I couldn’t. It was in the eve-
ning, and I was sitting by the window, study-
ing. I happened to look up and I saw this fel-
low moving about under the trees near the wall.
Later on I heard one of the dogs barking in an-

Red Hair 15

other part of the grounds, and shortly after-
ward I saw some one running across the lawn.
But I thought it was probably just a tramp.’’

‘‘Did he wear a hat or a cap?’’

‘‘As near as I can remember, it was a cap.
His clothes were dark.’’

‘‘And you couldn’t see his face?’’

‘tNo,”?

‘‘Well, it’s not much to go on, but it might
be linked up with Frank’s idea that the man who
stole the roadster might have still been hanging
around.’’? Mr. Hardy thought deeply for a few
moments. ‘I am going to bring all these facts
to Mr. Applegate’s attention and I am also go-
ing to have a talk with the police authorities.
I don’t think they have enough evidence to
warrant holding your father, Perry.’’

‘*Do you think you can have him released?’’
asked the boy eagerly.

‘*T’m sure of it. In fact, I think Mr. Apple-
gate is beginning to realize now that he made
a mistake and I don’t think the police are any
too anxious to go ahead with the case on the
meager evidence in their possession.”’

‘‘Tt will be wonderful if we can have dad back
with us again,’’ said Perry. ‘‘Although it
won’t be quite the same. He’ll be under a cloud
as long as this mystery isn’t cleared up. And
of course Mr. Applegate won’t employ him any
more.’’

76 The Tower Treasure

‘¢ All the more reason why we should get busy
and clear up the affair,’’ returned Mr. Hardy.
**You boys can help.’’

‘¢How???

“By keeping your eyes and ears open and
by using your wits. That’s all there is to de-
tective work.’’

‘Well, you can just bet that if it will clear
Slim’s dad we'll be listening and looking for
every clue there is,’’ Joe assured his father,

CHAPTER X
Aw Important Discovery

Wuen the Hardy boys returned from school
next afternoon they saw that a crowd had col-
lected about the bulletin board in the post
office.

‘“Wonder what’s up now?”’ said Joe, pushing
his way forward. Boylike, he was able to make
his way through the crowd with the agility of
an eel, and Frank was not slow in following.

On the board was a large poster, the ink on
which was scarcely dry. At the top, in enor-
mous black letters, they read:

$1000 REWARD

Underneath, in slightly smaller type, came
the following:

The above reward will be paid for informa-
tion leading to the arrest of the person or per-
sons who broke into Tower Mansion and stole
from a safe in the library jewels and securi-

ties, as follows—
7

78 The Tower Treasure

Then came a list of the jewels and negotiable
bonds that had been taken from Tower Mansion,
the jewels being fully described and the num-
bers of the bonds being given. It was an-
nounced that the reward was offered by Hurd
Applegate.

‘“Why, that must mean that the charge
against Mr. Robinson has been dropped!’’ ex-
claimed Joe.

*‘Tt looks like it. Let’s go and see if we can’t
find Slim.’’

All about them people were commenting on
the size of the reward, and there were many ex-
pressions of envy for the person who should be
fortunate enough to solve the mystery.

‘SA thousand dollars!’’ said Frank, as they
made their way out of the post office. ‘‘That’s
a lot of money, Joe.”’

*<T'll say it is.”’

*‘And there’s no reason why we haven’t as
good a chance of getting it as any one else.”’

*‘Golly—if we only could!’’

‘“Why not? Let’s get at this case in real
earnest. Of course, we would do what we could
anyway, but—’’

‘*A thousand dollars!’’

“It’s worth trying for.’’

‘Dad and the police are barred from the re-
ward, for it’s their duty to find the thief if they
can. But if we find him we get the money.’’

An Important Discovery 79

‘¢And we'll have the satisfaction of clearing
Mr. Robinson too. Joe, let’s get at this case in
earnest. We have some clues right now, and
we can follow them up.”’

“I’m with you. But there’s Slim now.”’

Perry Robinson was coming down the street
toward them. He looked much happier than he
had been the previous evening, and when he
saw the Hardy boys his face lighted up.

‘‘Dad is free,’’ he told them. ‘‘Thanks to
your father. The charge has been dropped.”’

‘‘Gee, but I’m glad to hear that!’’ exclaimed
Joe. ‘‘I see they’re offering a reward.”

‘‘Your father convinced Mr. Applegate that
it must have been an outside job. That is, that
it was the work of a professional crook. And
the police admitted there wasn’t much evidence
against dad, so they let him go. I tell you, it
was a great thing for my mother and sisters.
They were almost crazy with worry.’’

‘“No wonder,’’ commented Frank. ‘‘What is
your father going to do now?’’

‘*T don’t know,’’ Slim admitted heavily. ‘‘Of
course, we’ve had to move out of Tower Man-
sion. Mr. Applegate said that while the charge
had been dropped, he wasn’t altogether con-
vinced in his own mind that dad hadn’t had
something to do with it. So he dismissed him.”’

‘‘That’s tough luck. But he’ll be able to get
another job somewhere.’’

80 The Tower Treasure

‘‘T’m not so sure about that. People aren’t
likely to employ a man that’s been suspected of
stealing. Dad tried two or three places this
afternoon, but he was turned down.’’

The Hardy boys were silent. They were
sorry for the Robinsons, for they knew only
too well that the family were badly off financi-
ally and that in view of the robbery it would in-
deed be difficult for Mr. Robinson to get an-
other position.

‘“We’ve rented a small house just outside the
city,’’ went on Slim. ‘‘It is cheap, and we’ll
have to get along.’? There was no false pride
about Perry Robinson, He faced the facts as
they came, and made the best of them. ‘But
if dad doesn’t get a job it will mean that I'll
have to go to work.’’

‘“‘But, Slim—you’d have to quit school!’?

“T can’t help that. I wouldn’t want to, for
you know I was trying for the class medal this
year. But—oh, well—’’

The Hardy boys realized how much it would
mean to their chum to leave school at this stage.
Perry Robinson was an ambitious boy and one
of the cleverest in his class. He had always
wanted to continue his studies, go to a univer-
sity, and his teachers had predicted a brilliant
career for him. Now it seemed that all his am-
bitions would have to be thrown overboard be-
cause of this misfortune.

An Important Discovery 81

‘Don’t worry, Slim,’’ comforied Frank.
‘‘ Joe and I are going to plug away at this affair
until we get at the bottom of it.’’

‘‘Tt’s mighty good of you, fellows,’’ said Slim
gratefully. ‘‘I won’t forget it in a hurry.
You’ve been pretty white to me all through
this—’’

‘“‘Aw, shucks!’? muttered Frank, embar-
rassed. ‘‘It’s the reward we’re after. Apple-
gate is offering a thousand dollars.’’

‘‘Oh, I know it isn’t altogether the reward.
You would do it to help us anyway, and you
know it. Look what you’ve already done!’’

‘“Well, we’re going to get busy,’’ Joe said
hastily. ‘‘See you later, Slim. Don’t worry
too much. I think everything will be all right.’?

Slim tried to smile, but it was evident that he
was deeply worried, and when he walked away
it was not with the light, springy, carefree step
his chums had previously known.

‘¢What’s the first move, Frank?’’

‘"We had better get a full description of those
jewels. Perhaps the thief tried to pawn them.
We can call at all the pawnshops and see what
we can find out. Then we may be able to get
a line on the thief. You know, he might pawn
something here—if he had to have money with
which to get out of town.’’

*‘Good idea! Do you think Applegate will
give us a list?’’

82 The Tower Treasure

‘“We won’t have to ask him. Dad should
have all that information.”’

‘‘Let’s go and ask him right now.’’

But when the lads returned home and asked
their father for a description of the jewels, they
met with a disappointment.

“T’m quite willing to give you all that in-
formation,’’ said Fenton Hardy; ‘‘but I don’t
think it will be much use. Furthermore, I’ll
bet I can tell just what you are going to do.’’

‘¢What?’?

‘‘You’re going to make the rounds of the
pawnshops and see if any of the jewels have
been turned in.’’

The Hardy boys looked at one another in
consternation.

‘“‘How did you ever guess that?’’ asked
Frank.

Their father smiled,

‘‘Because it is just what I have already done.
Not an hour after I was called in on the case I
had a full description of all those jewels in every
pawnshop in the city. More than that, the des-
cription has been sent to jewelry firms and
pawnshops in other cities near here, and also
to the New York police. Here’s a duplicate list
if you want it, but you’ll just be wasting time
by going around to the shops. They are all on
the lookout for the stuff.’’

Mechanically, Frank took the list.

An Important Discovery 83

‘‘And I thought it was such a bright idea!’’

“Tt ts a bright idea. But it has been used
before. Most jewel robberies are solved in just
this manner—by tracing the thief when he tries
to get rid of the gems.’’

‘“Well,’? said Joe gloomily, ‘‘I guess that
plan is all shot to pieces. Come on, Frank.
We'll think of something else.’’

‘‘Out after the reward, eh?’’ said Mr. Hardy
shrewdly.

‘“Yes; and we'll get it, too!’’

“T hope you do. But you can’t ask me to
help you any more than I’ve done. It’s my
case too, remember. So from now on, you are
part of my opposition.’’

“Tt'g a go!??

**More power to you, then,’’ and Mr. Hardy
returned to his desk. He had a sheaf of re-
ports from shops and agencies in various parts
of the State, through which he had been try-
ing to trace the stolen jewels and securities, but
in every case the report was the same. There
had been no trace of the gems or bonds taken
from Tower Mansion.

When the boys left their father’s study they
went outside and sat on the back steps, silently
regarding their motorcycles.

‘‘What shall we do now?’’ asked Joe.

‘‘T don’t know. Dad sure took the wind out
of our sails that time, didn’t het’?

84 The Tower Treasure

“Tl say he did. But it was just as well.
Saved us a lot of trouble.’’

‘“We might have been going around to all the
pawnshops in the city and not getting any-
where.’’

‘‘Looks as if dad has the inside track on the
case, anyway. If any of the jewels are turned
in he will be the first to hear of it. What chance
have wet’’

“T’m hanged if I'll give up!’’ declared
Frank, with determination. ‘‘We know that
there was a strange man hanging around Tower
Mansion and we know that there was a red-
headed crook in town. Perhaps those two facts
aren’t connected, but I think they are. And we
know he stole Chet’s roadster.”’

“¢And left it in the woods.’’

‘*Yes—and say, Joe! We didn’t take much
time to look around when that roadster was
found, did we?’’

‘‘What was the use? The roadster was there
and Chet got it back.’’

‘No, but the man who stole the car had been
there too. Perhaps he left some clue.’’

Joe slapped his knee with an open hand.

“T never thought of that, Frank, Let’s go
right back there now.’’

‘¢Come on.’’

Eagerly, the Hardy boys dashed over to their
motorcycles, Ina few minutes they were speed-

An Important Discovery 85

ing through the streets of Bayport, out toward
the woods where Chet Morton’s roadster had
been abandoned.

They were fired with enthusiasm again, in
spite of the momentary setback they had re-
ceived when their father squelched Frank’s
plan of going around to the pawnshops. They
felt now that they were on a new trail.

They came to the abandoned road that led
into the woods and they brought their motor-
cycles as far as possible, finally leaving them
by the roadside and going ahead on foot.
Frank located the place where the roadster had
been driven off into the woods, for the trees
were still bent and broken, and the two boys
plunged into the depths of the thickets.

At last the Hardy boys emerged into the little
cleared space where the roadster had been
found. Everything was just as they had left
it, They examined the ground carefully.

‘“‘He might have dropped letters from his
pocket, or something,’’ said Joe hopefully, as
they explored the clearing.

But the auto thief had not been so careless.
There was not even a footprint, for the boys
had trampled the ground thoroughly after the
roadster had been discovered.

‘“‘Tf I had only thought to look for footprints
at the time!’’ groaned Joe, in disappointment.

“Or finger-prints. He must have left finger-

86 The Tower Treasure

prints somewhere about the car. If he was a
professional crook we could have traced him
easily.’’

‘‘Too late now. Chet has had the car washed
since then—we didn’t think of it in time.’’

Their search was without success, and the
Hardy boys were about to give up in disappoint-
ment when Frank left the clearing and began to
hunt about in the bushes.

‘‘T guess we might as well go home,’”’ said
Joe. ‘*We’ve come hunting for clues too late.
If we had any sense we would have looked for
finger-prints and—’’

He was interrupted by a shout from his
brother.

‘‘Joe! Come here, quick! I’ve found some-
thing!”’

There was no mistaking the excitement in
Frank’s voice. Joe lost no time in scrambling
through the bushes until he reached his
brother’s side.

Frank was standing in the midst of a thicket,
holding up something red and bushy.

It was a wig!

‘The red wig!’’ exclaimed Joe, his eyes wid-
ening

Not only the wig,’’ replied Frank. ‘‘But
this—’’ and he bent over to pick up a battered
hat from the ground. ‘‘And this!’? Where-
upon he picked up a worn coat.

An Important Discovery 87

‘‘They belong to the crook!’’

‘It couldn’t have been any one else. He
must have disguised himself here and left the
wig and things in the bush when he abandoned
the car.’’

CHAPTER XI
Mr. Harpy Investicates

Tun Hardy boys looked at one another in
growing excitement.

‘“What ought we do about it?’’ asked Joe.

*‘T’m going to tell dad what we’ve found.”’

‘<But didn’t he say he would be working the
case on his own and that we would be opposi-
tion?”’

‘This is different. We have a real clue here,
but we don’t know how to use it. You can bet
dad will know what to do. He’ll act fairly with
us. If it leads to anything, he’ll see that we get
credit for what we’ve done.’’

“<T guess you’re right, Frank. This is a little
too big for us to handle ourselves. But imagine
finding that wig! What luck!’’

‘‘There’s nothing else around, is there? Let’s
look.’?

Although the Hardy boys scoured the woods
in that vicinity thoroughly, they found nothing
more. But the wig, the hat and the coat gave
promise of interesting developments. Frank

88

Mr. Hardy Investigates 89

hunted through all the pockets of the coat in the
faint hope of finding something that would
identify the previous wearer, but in this he was
disappointed.

So they went back to the abandoned road and
Tremounted their motorcycles, returning to Bay-
port with the articles they had found in the
woods,

Their disappointment had turned to jubila-
tion, for now they felt that they were definitely
on the trail of the mysterious man in the red
wig, and while ostensibly there was no connec-
tion between this fellow and the thief who had
robbed Tower Mansion, Frank had, as he said,
‘a hunch”’ that the auto thief and the robber of
the mansion were one and the same man.

“Tf we ever lay our hands on the man who
stole Chet’s roadster I’m sure we’ll have gone
a long way toward solving the Tower affair,’’
said Frank to his brother. ‘‘I may be wrong,
but I have an idea that the fellow was a pro-
fessional crook who first set out to rob the
steamboat office. Then, when he was frightened
off, he hung around the city and waited his
chance to rob Tower Mansion.’’

Mr. Hardy was still in the library when the
boys returned home. The great detective was
frankly surprised when his sons again entered
the room, and he Jooked up with the suspicion of
a twinkle in his eyes.

90 The Tower Treasure

‘‘What! More clues!’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘Surely
not 80 soon.’’

“‘You bet we have more clues!’’ exclaimed
Frank eagerly. ‘‘And real clues this time.
We’re going to turn them over to you.’’

‘But I thought the two of you were working
on this case in your own way. Remember, I’m
the opposition.’’

‘Well, to tell the truth, we don’t know just
what to do with what we’ve found,’’ admitted
Frank. ‘‘And, anyway, we know you'll be fair
with us, so it doesn’t matter. Look!’’

And with that he tossed the red wig on the
table. He kept the coat and hat behind his
back.

Fenton Hardy leaned forward quickly and
picked up the wig with an inquiring glance at
his sons.

‘*So!’? he murmured. ‘‘You found the wig?’’

He examined it intently. Then he opened a
drawer of his desk and produced the fragment
of wig that the boys had found in the smashed
car by the road. This he applied to a torn part
of the wig itself. It fitted perfectly.

‘‘Tt’s the wig all right,’’ he declared, looking
up. ‘*Where did you find it? By the smashed
car?’’

‘‘No. Hidden in the bushes near the place
where Chet’s roadster was found.’’

Mr. Hardy whistled solemnly.

Mr. Hardy Investigates 91

‘‘Good work.’? He turned the wig over and
over in his hands, carefully examined it under a
microscope, and then tossed it back on the desk.

‘‘There aren’t so many wigs sold that one
can’t trace them,’’ he observed. ‘‘This happens
to be made by a small company that doesn’t turn
out a great many wigs ina year. It’s a sort of
side line with them.”’

‘‘How can you tell?’”’

‘‘There’s a little mark on the inside that dis-
tinguishes the manufacturer. Just a trade-
mark—hardly noticeable.’’

‘‘And we found these as well,’’ said Frank,
handing over the coat and hat.

Mr. Hardy’s eyes opened wide.

‘*Well, well!’? he exclaimed. ‘You have
been busy, haven’t you?”’

‘‘They were all hidden in the same place.’’

‘*And well hidden, too, I’ll warrant.’’

‘sWe were sure there must be clues of some
kind around that car, so we searched every inch
of the woods roundabout.’’

‘‘Good!’? said Mr. Hardy approvingly.
‘*You didn’t miss any chances. I’m not say-
ing these clues will lead to the capture of the
fellow, but they will go a long way toward find-
ing him,”’

‘“What should we do with them?”’

Mr, Hardy looked up at his sons and smiled.

‘Well, you’ve shared your clues with me, so

92 The Tower Treasure

I suppose I may as well share some of my ex-
perience with you. What do you say if I go to
the city and try to trace up some of these labels?
This hat, for instance—’’ and he picked it up
from the table, examining the band intently.
‘‘There is a label here. Of course, the hat may
have been sold a long time ago, and it isn’t likely
that the man who sold it would remember who
bought it. But there is always the chance that
the store may not be far from where the fellow
lives, You get my idea? And the coat, too.
If we can find any trace of who bought the wig
we may be able to connect up the other things
as well.’’

‘“‘Gosh, I never thought of that!’’ admitted
Frank,

‘‘It’s a slim chance, but, as I said before, we
can’t afford to overlook any chances. I'll take
them to the city and see what Ican do. It may
mean everything and it may mean nothing.
Don’t be disappointed if I come back empty-
handed. And don’t be surprised if I come
back with some valuable information.’’

Mr. Hardy tossed the wig, the coat and the
hat into a club bag that was standing open near
his desk. The great detective was accustomed
to being called away suddenly on strange er-
Tands, and he was always prepared to leave
at a moment’s notice.

‘Not much use starting now,’’ he said,

Mr. Hardy Investigates 93

glancing at his watch. ‘‘But I’ll go to the city
the first thing in the morning. In the mean-
time, don’t rest on your oars, as the saying is.
Keep your eyes and your ears open for more
clues. The case isn’t over yet by any means.’’

Mr. Hardy picked up some papers on his
desk, as a hint that the interview was over, and
the boys left the library. They were in a state
of high excitement, for they were confident now
that they had made valuable progress in the
case and they were sure that if the wig and the
garments could be of any use at all toward locat-
ing the crook, Mr. Hardy would be the man to
use them,

When they went to bed that night they could
hardly sleep, so elated were they over their
discovery near the abandoned roadway.

‘‘He must have been a pretty smart crook,’’
murmured Joe, after they had talked long into
the night. ‘‘That idea about the wig was clever.
T’ll bet he was an experienced guy!”’

‘<The smarter they are, the harder they fall,’’
replied Frank. ‘‘It’s the experienced crook
that the police always look for. If this fellow
has any kind of a record at all it won’t take long
for dad to run him down. I’ve heard dad say
that there is no such thing as a clever crook. If
he was really clever he wouldn’t be a crook at
all”?

‘*Yes, I guess there’s something in that, too.

94 The Tower Treasure

But it shows that we’re not up against any ordi-
nary amateur. This fellow must be a slippery
customer.”’

‘‘He’ll have to be mighty slippery from now
on. Once dad has a few clues to work on he
never lets up till he gets his man.”’

‘‘Well, let’s hope he gets this one. He'll
think a lot more of us as detectives if he does.’’
And with that, the boys fell asleep.

When they went down to breakfast the fol-
lowing morning they found that Fenton Hardy
had left for New York on an early morning
train.

The Hardy boys went to school, but all
through that morning they could scarcely keep
their minds on their work, Their thoughts were
far afield. They were wondering how Fenton
Hardy was faring on his quest in New York and
it was not until after Frank had drawn a rep-
rimand from one of his teachers because he
absent-mindedly answered, ‘‘Red wig,’’? when
asked to name the capital of Kansas that they
settled down to work and tried to put the affair
of the wig and the abandoned clothes from their
minds.

Slim Robinson was at school that day, but
after four o’clock he confided to the Hardy
boys that he was leaving.

‘*Tt’s no use,’’ he said. ‘‘Father can’t keep
me in school any longer and it’s up to me to

Mr. Hardy Investigates 95

pitch in and help the family. I’m to start work
to-morrow for a grocery company.”’

‘‘And you wanted to go to college!’’ ex-
claimed Frank. ‘‘It’s a shame, that’s what it
is !??

‘‘Can’t be helped,’’ replied Perry, with a
grimace. ‘‘I can consider myself lucky I got
this far. I guess I'll have to give up all those
ideas now and settle down to learn the grocery
business. There’s one good thing about it—
I'll have a chance to learn it from the ground
up. I’m starting in the delivery department.
Perhaps in about fifty years I’ll be head of the
firm.’?

‘*You’ll make good at whatever you tackle,’’
Joe assured him. ‘‘But I’m sorry you won’t
be able to go through college as you wished.
Don’t give up hope yet, Slim. You never know
what may happen. Perhaps they’ll find the
fellow who did rob Tower Mansion.’’

Both boys wanted to tell their chum about
the clues they had discovered the previous day,
but the same thought was in their minds—that
it would be unwise to raise false hopes, It
would go much harder with Perry, they knew,
if he began to think the capture of the thief
was imminent, only to have the hope dashed
to earth again. So they said good-bye to him
and wished him good luck. Perry tried hard to
be cheerful, but his smile was very faint as he

96 The Tower Treasure

turned away from them and walked off down the
street.

*‘Gosh, but I’m sorry for him,’’ said Frank
as they went home. ‘‘He was such a hard
worker in school and he counted so much on
going to college.’?

‘“We’ve just got to clear up the Tower rob-
bery, that’s all there is to it!’ declared his
brother.

‘Perhaps dad is back by now. There’s a
train from New York at three o’clock. Let’s
hurry home and see.’’

But when the Hardy boys arrived home they
found that their father had not yet returned
from the city.

‘“We'll just have to be patient, I guess,’
said Frank. ‘‘No news is good news.’?

And with this philosophic reflection the
Hardy boys were obliged to comfort themselves
against the impatience that possessed them
to learn what progress their father was mak-
ing in the city toward following up the clues
they had given him.

CHAPTER XII
Days or Warttna

Fenton Harpy had high hopes of a quick
solution of the mystery when he went to New
York. Possession of the wig, the hat and the
coat gave him three clues, any one of which
might lead to tracing the previous owner
quickly, and the detective was confident that it
would not be long before he would unravel the
tangled threads. He had not stated his opti-
mism to the boys, being careful not to arouse
their hopes, but in his heart he thought it would
be but a matter of hours before he ran the
owner of the red wig to earth.

But obstacles presented themselves before
him in bewildering succession.

The wig appeared to be his chief clue, and
when he arrived in the city he went directly to
the head office of the company that had man-
ufactured it. When he sent his card in to the
manager he was readily admitted, for Fenton
Hardy’s name was known from the Atlantic

to the Pacific,
97

98 The Tower Treasure

“Some of our customers in trouble, Mr.
Hardy?’’ asked the manager, when the great
detective tossed the red wig on his desk.

‘“Not yet. But one of your customers will be
in trouble if I can ever trace the purchaser of
this wig.’’

The manager picked it up. He inspected it
carefully and frowned.

‘We are not, as you know, a wig-making
firm,’’ he said. ‘‘That is, the wig department
is a very small side line with us.”’

‘“‘The very reason I thought it would be
easier to trace this,’’ replied Mr. Hardy. ‘‘If
you turned out thousands of them every year
it might be more difficult. You sell to an ex-
clusive theatrical trade, I believe.’’

‘‘Exactly. If an actor wants a wig of some
special nature, we do our best to please him.
We only make the wigs to order.’’

‘¢Then you will probably have a record of this
one,’’

The manager turned the wig over in his
hands, glanced carefully at the inside, felt of
the weight and texture, then pressed a button
at the side of his desk. A boy came and de-
parted with a message.

‘<Tt may be difficult. This wig is not new. In
fact, I would say it was turned out about two
years ago.’’

‘‘A long time. But still—’’

Days of Waiting 99

“‘T’]] do the best I can.’’

A bespectacled old man shuffled into the office
at that moment, in response to the manager’s
summons, and stood waiting in front of the desk.

‘‘Kauffman, here,’? said the manager, ‘‘is
our expert. What he doesn’t know about wigs
isn’t worth knowing.’’ Then, turning to the old
man, he handed him the red wig. ‘‘ Remember
it, Kauffman?’’

The old man looked at it doubtfully. Then
he gazed at the ceiling.

‘“‘Red wig... red wig...’’ he muttered.

‘‘About two years old, isn’t it?’’ prompted
the manager.

‘“‘Not quite. Year’n a half, I’d say. Looks
like a comedy character type. Wait’ll I think.
There ain’t been so many of our customers
playin’ that kind of a part inside a year and a
half. Let’s see. Let’s see’? The old man
paced up and down the office, muttering names
under his breath. Suddenly, he stopped, snap-
ping his fingers.

‘“‘T have it,’? he said. ‘It must have been
Morley who bought that wig. That’s who it
was! Harold Morley. He is playing in Shake-
spearian repertoire with Hamlin’s company.
Very fussy about his wigs. Has to have ’em
just so. I remember he bought this one because
he came in here about a month ago and ordered
another just like it.’’

100 The Tower Treasure

‘Why would he do that?’’ asked Mr. Hardy.

Kauffman shrugged his shoulders.

‘‘Ain’t none of my business. Lots of actors
keep a double set of wigs. Morley’s playin’
down at the Crescent Theater right now. Call
him up.”’

“T’ll go and see him,’’ said Mr. Hardy, rising.
*¢You’re sure he is the man who ordered that
wig???

‘‘Positive!’’ replied Kauffman, looking hurt.
‘‘T know every wig that goes out of my shop. I
give ’em all my pers’nal attention. Morley
got the wig—and he got another like it a month
ago. I remember.’’

‘‘Kauffman is right,’? put in the manager.
‘‘Morley has a very good account with us. If
Kauffman says he remembers the wig, it must
be so.’’

“Well, thank you for your trouble,’’ an-
swered Fenton Hardy. ‘‘I may be able to see
Mr. Morley in his dressing room if I hurry. It
lacks about half an hour of theater time.”’

‘*You’ll just about make it. Glad to have
been of service, Mr. Hardy. Any time we can
do anything for you, just ask.’’

‘Thank you,’? and Fenton Hardy shook
hands with Kauffman and the manager, then
left the office, bound for the Crescent Theater.

But the detective’s hopes were not as high as
they had been. He knew that Morley, the actor,

Days of Waiting 101

was certainly not the man who had worn the
wig on the day the roadster was stolen, for the
Shakespearian company of which Morley was
a member had been playing a three months’
run in New York. It would be impossible for
the actor to get away from the theater long
enough for such an escapade, just as it was
improbable that he would even try to do so.

He presented his card to a suspicious door-
man at the Crescent and was finally admitted
backstage and shown down a brilliantly lighted
corridor to the dressing room of Harold Mor-
ley. It was a snug little place, the dressing
room, for Morley had fitted it up to suit his own
tastes once it was assured that the company
would remain at the Crescent for an extended
run. There were pictures on the walls, a potted
plant in the window overlooking the alleyway,
and a rug on the floor.

Seated before a mirror with electric lights at
either side, was a stout little man, almost totally
bald. He was diligently rubbing cold cream on
his face, and when Fenton Hardy entered he did
not turn around but, eyeing his visitor in the
mirror, casually told him to sit down.

‘“‘Often heard of you, Mr. Hardy,’’ he said,
in a surprisingly deep voice that had a comical
effect in contrast to his diminutive appearance.
**Often heard of you. Glad to meet you. What
kind of call is this? Social—or professional?”’

102 The Tower Treasure

‘*Professional.’’

Morley continued rubbing cold cream on his
jowls.

‘‘Spill it,’’? he said briefly. ‘*What’s it all
about?’’

“Ever see this wig before?’’ asked Mr.
Hardy, tossing the red wig on the table.

Morley turned from the mirror, and an ex-
pression of delight crossed his plump counte-
nance.

‘‘Well, I’ll say I’ve seen it before!’’ he de-
clared. ‘‘Old Kauffman—the best wig-maker
in the country—made that for me abont a year
and a half ago. That’s the kind of wig I wear
for Launcelot Gobbo in ‘The Merchant of Ven-
ice.’ Where did you get it? I sure didn’t think
I'd ever see that wig again.”’

‘“Why???

“Stolen from me. Some low-down egg
cleaned out my dressing room one night. Dur-
ing the performance. Nerviest thing I ever
heard of. Came right in here while I was doing
my stuff out front, grabbed my watch and
money and a diamond ring I had lying by the
mirror, took this wig and a couple of others
that were lying around, and beat it. Nobody
saw him come or go. Must have got in by that
window.”’

Morley talked in short, rapid sentences, and
there was no mistaking his sincerity.

Days of Waiting 103

‘‘How many wigs did he take?”’

“About half a dozen. Funny thing about
that, too. They were all red. Took nothin’ but
red wigs. I told the cops to be on the lookout
for a red-headed thief. I didn’t worry so much
about the other wigs, for they were for old
plays, but this one was being used right along.
Kauffman made it specially for me. I had to
get him to make another. But say—where did
you find it?’’

‘‘Oh, just a little case I’m investigating. The
crook left this behind him. I was trying to
trace it.’’

‘“Well, you’ve traced it all right. But that’s
all the help I can give you. The cops never
did find out who cleaned out my dressing
room,’’

Mr. Hardy was disappointed. The clue of
the red wig had led only to a blind alley. But
he concealed his chagrin and tossed the wig
over to Morley.

‘‘Gee, and I'm sure glad to get it back
again,’’ declared the actor. ‘‘Things haven’t
gone right with me at all since I lost that wig.
Losing it brought me a whole flock of bad luck.
Sorry I can’t help you find the guy that took
it. What’s he been up to now?”’

Fenton Hardy evaded the question.

**Qh, I'll probably get him some other way.
Give me a list and description of the stuff he

104 The Tower Treasure

took from you. Probably I can trace him
through that.’’

‘“Hop to it,’? said Morley breezily. ‘‘Hop
right to it, old man. Here’s a list of the stuff
right here.’’? He reached in a drawer and drew
out a sheet of paper which he handed over to
the detective. ‘‘That’s the same list I gave to
the cops when I reported the robbery. Num-
ber of the watch, and everything.”’

Mr. Hardy folded the list and put it in his
pocket. Morley glanced at his watch, lying be-
side the mirror, face up, and gave an exclama-
tion.

‘‘Suffering Sebastopol! Curtain in five
minntes and I’m not half made up yet. Excuse
me, Mr. Hardy, but I’ve got to get busy. In
this business ‘T’ll be ready in a minute’ doesn’t
go.”

He seized a stick of grease paint and fever-
ishly resumed the task of altering his appear-
ance to that of the character he was portraying
at the matinee that day. Mr. Hardy, smiling
at the actor’s casual informality, withdrew
from the dressing room and made his way out
to the street.

‘A blind alley!’’ he muttered. ‘‘I was sure
I could trace the fellow by means of the wig.
Oh, welll’? He shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘I
still have the hat and coat. And if the worst
comes to the worst I can try to trace the chap

Days of Waiting 105

through the stuff he stole from Morley—for
it was probably the same man. But it looks
like a big job.’’

It was a big job.

Efforts to trace the purchaser of the hat and
coat were fruitless. The search ended at a
secondhand store where the owner vainly tried
to sell Mr. Hardy a complete outfit of clothing
at a bargain, but could not or would not re-
member who had bought the coat from him.
He sold so many coats, and at such bargains,
that he could not remember the customers who
came into his store. Mr. Hardy was forced to
retire, defeated.

The predominating quality of the detective’s
character was patience. When he found that
he could not trace the thief through the wig, the
hat or the coat, he doggedly set to work trying
to trace the man who had broken into the dress-
ing room of the actor, Morley, and this, in spite
of the fact that the police had already given up
that case as hopeless.

Then, in his spare time, Mr. Hardy spent
hours at police headquarters, poring over rec-
ords, searching for particulars of hundreds of
red-headed criminals.

It was over a week before he found what he
wanted and it came from a chance note at the
bottom of a police description of a thief who
was at that time out on parole. But when

106 The Tower Treasure

Fenton Hardy saw the note he knew he had
stumbled on the clue he needed. And he smiled
grimly.

‘‘Tt won’t be long now,’’ he remarked, in the
popular phrase of the day, as he went back to
his hotel.

CHAPTER XIII
In Poor QuarrTess

In the meantime, the Hardy boys were find-
ing the suspense almost unbearable. They had
expected that their father would be away but
a day at the most, but when two days dragged
by, then three, and finally an entire week, with-
out word from Mr. Hardy further than a brief
note from New York stating that he was well
and that the case was not as easy of solution
as he had hoped, they became depressed.

“Tf dad can’t get the thief, no one can,’’
declared Joe, with conviction, ‘‘and I’m begin-
ning to think that even dad is falling down in
this affair.’’

‘Better wait till he admits it himself,’’ sug-
gested Frank. ‘‘Although I don’t mind telling
you I’m not very hopeful myself.’’

Frank’s preoccupied air had not gone unob-
served. Callie Shaw had noticed his abstrac-
tion, More than once, when she had smiled
pleasantly at him as they met one another in
the hallways or in the classroom at the high

107

108 The Tower Treasure

school, he had merely nodded moodily. Callie
was too sensible to be hurt by this, but she
wondered what was worrying Frank. So one
afternoon, when they happened to leave school
together, she taxed him with it.

‘‘What’s on your mind, Frank?’’ she asked
gaily. ‘*You’ve been going around looking like
a human thundercloud for the last week.’’

‘Who, me? I didn’t notice,’’ returned Frank
heavily.

‘*Yes, youl’? she replied, mimicking his life-
less tone. ‘You used to be full of fun. What’s
the matter? Can’t I help?’’ She glanced up
at him eagerly.

Frank shook his head.

‘‘No, you can’t help, Callie, It’s about Slim.”’

‘Slim Robinson! Oh, yes! Wasn’t that too
bad?’’ said Callie, with quick sympathy ‘He
had to leave school. They tell me he’s work-
ing.”?

“In a grocery.’’

*<And he was so anxious to be a lawyer!’

*“‘T was talking to him this morning. He
pretends he likes the work he’s at, but I could
tell he wishes he could get back to school again.
I’m real sorry for him. And all on account
of that confounded Tower robbery!’’

‘‘But nobody really believes Mr. Robinson
did it!’

‘‘Of course not. Nobody but Hurd Apple-

In Poor Quarters 109

gate. But until they find who did take the stuff,
Mr. Robinson is out of a job and nobody will
hire him.’’

‘‘Isn’t that too bad? I’m going over to see
Paula and Tessie and Mrs. Robinson to-night.
Where are they living?’’

Frank gave Callie the address. Her eyes
widened.

‘‘Why that’s in one of the poorest sections of
the city! Frank, I had no idea it was that bad!’

“Tt is—and it’ll be a lot worse unless Mr.
Robinson gets work pretty soon. Slim’s earn-
ings aren’t nearly enough to keep the family
yet.”’

‘Isn't there any chance that Mr. Robinson
will be cleared?”’

‘‘That’s what’s worrying me. Dad is work-
ing on the case.’’

‘‘Then why should you worry?’ said Callie
triumphantly. ‘‘Why, that means it’ll be all
cleared up. Your father can do anything!’

*‘T used to think so, too. But he seems to
be stuck, this time.’?

‘*What’s the matter?’’

‘‘He went to New York almost a week ago
with some clues that Joe and I were certain
would clear up the affair, and so far we haven’t
heard from him, only to know that the case was
harder than he expected.”’

‘But he hasn’t given up, has he?’’

110 The Tower Treasure

‘*Well—no—”’

‘‘Then what are you worrying about silly?
If your father had given up the case there would
be something to worry about. If he is still
working on it there’s always hope.”’

They walked on in silence for a while.

‘‘Let’s go out to see the Robinsons,’ Callie
said suddenly.

“I’ve been intending to go, but—I sort of
—well—you know—’’

‘You thought it might embarrass them.
Well, it won’t. I know Paula and Tessie well,
and they’re not that kind. They’d appreciate
a friendly visit.’’

Frank hesitated. He had the natural shy-
ness of his age and he felt awkward about visit-
ing the Robinsons in their new home, for he
knew they were now in reduced circumstances
and might not wish their former friends to see
them in their present plight. But Callie’s
words reassured him.

“All right. I'll go. We can’t stay long,
though.’’

‘*We can’t. I must be back in time for sup-
per. We’ll just drop in on them so they’ll
know we haven’t forgotten all about them.’’

‘*T thought you were going over to see them
to-night?’’

“‘T was, but I’ve changed my mind. I want
you to come with me now.”’

In Poor Quaiters 111

Frank hailed a passing street car bound for
the section of the city in which the Robinsons
lived and they got on board. It was a long ride
and the streets became poorer and meaner as
they neared the outskirts of Bayport.

“<Tt’s an outrage, that’s what it is!’’ declared
Callie abruptly. ‘‘Mrs. Robinson and the girls
were always accustomed to having everything
so nice! And now they have to live away out
here! Oh, I hope your father catches the man
that committed that robbery!’’

Her eyes flashed and for a moment she looked
so fierce that Frank laughed.

“I suppose you’d like to be the judge and
jury at his trial, eh?’’ he chuckled.

“T’d give him a hundred years in jail!’?

When at length they came to the street to
which the Robinsons had moved they found that
it was an even poorer thoroughfare than they
had expected. There were squalid shacks and
tumbledown houses on either side of the nar-
row street, and ragged children were playing in
the roadway. At the far end of the street they
came to a small, unpainted cottage that some-
how contrived to look neat in spite of the sur-
roundings. The picket fence had been repaired
and the yard had been cleaned up.

‘This is where they live,’’ said Frank, ‘‘It’s
the neatest place on the whole street.’’

Paula answered their knock, Her face lighted

112 The Tower Treasure

up with pleasure when she saw who the callers
were.

“Frank and Callie!’? exclaimed the girl.
‘“You’ve come to see us! Comein. We're dy-
ing of loneliness. There hasn’t been a soul out
this way since we moved.”’

Callie flashed Frank a look of triumph, and
whispered :

“There, now! Didn’t I tell you they’d be
glad?’’ as they went into the house,

They were greeted with kindly dignity by
Mrs. Robinson and with girlish good humor
by Tessie. Mrs. Robinson received them with
the same sélf-possession she would have shown
had they been back at Tower Mansion, and
Frank wondered at himself for thinking that
these good people might be ashamed to meet
their old friends in this new and humbler
home.

“We can’t stay long,’’ explained Callie.
“But Frank and I just thought we’d run out
to see how you all are.’’

‘We're all well—that’s one mercy to be
thankful for,’? answered Mrs. Robinson.
‘‘Perry is working. I suppose you knew that.’’

‘¢And Mr. Robinson?’’ inquired Frank.

She shook her head.

‘‘Not yet.’? Mrs. Robinson’s lips quivered.
*‘Tt’s so hard for him,’’ she said. ‘‘ Without
a recommendation, you know It looks as

In Poor Quarters 113

though he might have to go to another city to
get work.”’

‘‘Amd leave you here?’’

“tT guppose so. We don’t know what to
do.’’

“‘Tt’s so unjust!’’ flared Paula. ‘‘Papa didn’t
have a thing to do with that miserable robbery,
and yet he has to suffer for it just the same!’’

‘‘Has your father—discovered anything—
yet, Frank?’’ asked Mrs. Robinson hesitantly.

‘“‘I’m sorry,’’ admitted Frank, ‘“We haven’t
heard from him. He’s been away in New York
following up some clues. But so far there’s
been nothing. Of course, it isn’t often he falls
down on a case.’’

‘We hardly dare hope that he’ll be able to
clear Mr. Robinson. The whole case is so
mysterious.’’

“T’ve given up thinking of it,’’ Tessie de-
clared. ‘‘If it is cleared up, all well and good.
If it isn’t—we won’t starve, at any rate, and
papa knows we all believe in him,”’

‘‘Yes, I suppose it doesn’t do much good to
keep talking about it,’? agreed Mrs. Robinson.
‘“We’ve gone over it all so thoroughly that
there is nothing more to say.’’

So, by tacit consent, the subject was changed,
and for the rest of their stay Frank and Callie
chatted of doings at school. Mrs. Robinson
and the girls invited them to remain for supper,

114 The Tower Treasure

but Callie insisted that she must go. When they
left they promised faithfully to pay another
visit in the near future. Only once again was
the subject that was nearest their hearts
brought up, and that was when Mrs. Robinson
drew Frank to one side as he was leaving.

‘“‘Promise me one thing,’’ she said. ‘Let
me know as soon as your father returns—if
he has any news.’’

“‘T’ll do that, Mrs. Robinson,’’ agreed the
boy. ‘‘I know what this suspense must be like
for you.”’

“<Tt’s terrible. But as long as Fenton Hardy
is working on the case I’m sure that it will be
cleared up if it is humanly possible.’’

And with that, the matter rested. Callie was
unusually silent all the way home. It was evi-
dent that she had been profoundly affected by
the change that the Tower Mansion mystery
had caused in the lives of the Robinsons. Nat-
urally sympathetic and tender-hearted, she
felt keenly the injustice of it all, and she real-
ized even more than Frank what it had meant
to Mrs. Robinson and the girls to move from
their comfortable home in the Mansion to the
squalid and distant part of the city in which
they now lived.

Callie lived but a few blocks away from the
Hardy home, and Frank accompanied her to the

gate.

In Poor Quarters 115

‘‘Mercy!’? she exclaimed, glancing at her
watch, ‘‘it’s after six. I’m away late for sup-
per.’”’

“So am I, See you to-morrow.’’

“Surely. But, Frank—’’

&é Yes???

Callie hesitated, then looked directly into his
eyes. ‘‘Frank,’’ she said, ‘‘if your father,
somehow, doesn’t clear up this affair, you and
Joe simply must do it! You must! For the
Robinsons. It means so much to them.’’

“Dad won’t fall down on it. Don’t worry.
And Joe and I are giving all the help we can.”’

His confidence was contagious. Callie bright-
ened up immediately.

‘‘In that case,’’ she said, gaily, ‘‘the mystery
is as good as solved. The three best detectives
in the world are working on it. Good-bye,
Frank.’”’

With that she ran lightly into the house.

CHAPTER XIV
Rep JacKLEY

Tr was another week before Fenton Hardy
returned to Bayport.

Contrary to the expectations of the boys, he
did not arrive from New York. Instead, he
came home early one morning, having reached
the city by a train from the west. He had sent
no advance notice of his arrival, and the first
his sons knew of it was when a servant told
them that their father had reached the house
in the early hours of the morning, plainly care-
worn and travel-stained. He had gone imme-
diately to bed, leaving orders that he was on no
account to be disturbed.

This was at breakfast, and although the boys
were wild with impatience to learn the out-
come of their father’s trip, they were obliged
to curb their curiosity. Mr. Hardy was still
sleeping when they left for school that morning
and, to their surprise, he was asleep when they
came back home for lunch.

‘“‘He must be mighty tired!’? remarked Joe.
‘‘T wonder where on earth he came from?”’

116

Red Jackley 117

‘‘Probably been up all night. When dad gets
hard at work on a case he forgets all about
sleep. I'll bet he found something.”’’

‘‘Hope so. But I wish he’d wake up and
tell us. I hate to go back to school without
knowing.”’

But Mr. Hardy had not awakened by the
time the boys set out for school again, although
they lingered until they were in danger of
being late.

All afternoon they were tormented by curi-
osity. Where had their father been? What had
he discovered? As soon as school was out they
fled down the steps, broke away from a group
of boys anxious to get up a baseball game, and
shattered all records in their race for home.

Fenton Hardy was in the library, and as they
rushed panting into the room he grinned
broadly at his sons, for he was quite well aware
that they were impatient to hear an account of
his trip.

He looked refreshed after his long sleep and
it was evident that his trip had not been en-
tirely without success, for his manner was
cheerful. The Hardy boys knew their father
well, and they knew that when a case was difii-
cult of solution the great detective became
moody and worried.

‘“What luck, dad?’’ asked Frank, perching
on the arm of an easy chair.

118 The Tower Treasure

Mr. Hardy raised his eyebrows, pretending
not to understand.

‘‘About what?’’ he inquired.

‘<About the case. The Tower Mansion case.
The red wig. Did you find out who owned
it? Did you catch the thief1’’

‘“Whoa!l Whoa! Not all at once. A ques-
tion at a time please. Now, do I understand
that you want to know if I found out anything
about the Tower Mansion affair?’’

“Don’t keep us waiting, dad,’’ pleaded Joe.
‘““You know that’s what we’re asking you
about.’’

‘“(Well,’? answered Mr. Hardy, ‘‘yes—and
no!’’

‘“‘That’s not much of an answer,’’ objected
Frank, in disappointment.

‘‘Tt’s the best answer I can give, unfortu-
nately. I did find out something about the red
wig. But as for connecting its wearer with the
Tower robbery—that is still to come.’’

‘*You traced the fellow who wore the wig?’’

“‘T did. And he turned out to be a well-
known criminal—well known to the police, that
is.”’

‘“What’s his name?’’ asked Joe.

‘“‘Jackley. John Jackley—commonly mown
as ‘Red’.’’

‘‘Because he has red hair?’’

‘“‘No. Because he hasn’t red hair. That re-

Red Jackley 119

verses the usual order of nicknames, I imagine.
This fellow Jackley has a fondness for wearing
red wigs.’’

‘¢ And was he the man who stole Chet’s road-
ster?’’

“Tt seems almost certain. I traced the wig,
which had been originally stolen from an actor
in New York. I traced it to Jackley because
his habit of wearing red wigs is well known to
the police, and by locating him and keeping a
close watch on him and paying a call at his
room one night when he was out, I managed
to find some of the loot that he had taken when
he robbed the actor. That seemed to connect
everything up very well.’’

‘‘Where did you find him?’’ asked Frank,

‘*In New York. He wasn’t in hiding, for he
hadn’t been sought for any particular crime at
the time. The police seemed to overlook him in
their investigation of the dressing-room theft.’’

‘‘Did you accuse him?”’

‘‘No. I wanted to learn more. When I
found the articles that had been stolen from
the actor and knew that the wig found by the
roadster had been taken at the same time, I
knew Red Jackley was the auto thief. But I
wanted to get some information on the Tower
Mansion affair if possible. So I took a room
in the house in which Jackley was living, and
kept a close watch on him.”’

120 The Tower Treasure

‘Did you learn anything?’’

Mr. Hardy shook his head.

‘‘ Jackley himself spoiled everything. He got
mixed up in a jewel robbery and cleared out
of the city. Luckily, I heard him packing up,
and I trailed him. The police were watching
for him and he couldn’t get out by railway—
that is, not in the ordinary manner. Instead,
he tried to make his escape by jumping a
freight.’’

‘‘And you still followed?”’

“‘T lost him two or three times, but luck was
with me, and somehow I managed to pick up
his trail again. He got out of the city, out into
New Jersey, and then his luck failed him. A
railway detective recognized him and then the
chase was on. Up to that time I had been con-
tent with just keeping behind him. I had hoped
to pose as a fellow fugitive and win his con-
fidence. But when the chase started in real
earnest I had to join with the other officers.’’

‘‘And they caught Jackley?’’

“‘Not without a chase. Jackley, by the way,
was once a railroad man. Strangely enough,
he once worked not many miles from here. He
managed to steal a railway gasoline speeder
and got away from us. But he didn’t last
long, for the speeder jumped the tracks on a
curve and Jackley was badly smashed up.’*

‘Was he killed?”

Red Jackley 121

‘‘T don’t think he’ll live. He’s in a hospital
right now and the doctors say he hasn’t much
of a chance.’’

‘¢But he’s under arrest.’’

‘‘Oh, yes. He is being held for the jewel rob-
bery and also for the robbery from the actor’s
dressing room. But I don’t think he’ll live to
answer either charge.’’

‘‘Didn’t you find out anything that would
connect him with the Tower robbery?’’

‘“‘Not a thing.”

The Hardy boys were disappointed, and their
expressions showed it. If Red Jackley died,
the secret of the Tower robbery would die with
him, for by now Frank and Joe were convinced
that the notorious criminal had indeed been the
thief for whose misdeeds Mr. Robinson was
now suffering. And if the secret died with him,
Mr. Robinson would be doomed to spend the
rest of his life under a cloud, suspected of
being a thief.

‘‘Have you seen Jackley yet?’’ asked Frank.

‘“‘After the smash-up. But I didn’t have a
chance to talk to him.’’

‘*You might have been able to get a confes-
sion from him.’’

Fenton Hardy nodded.

*‘T may be able to get one yet. If he is sure
he is going to die he may admit everything. I
intend to make an effort to see him in the hos-

122 The Tower Treasure

pital and ask him about the Tower robbery,
anyway.’’

‘Ts he far away?”

Mr. Hardy named a small city not far distant
from Bayport.

“‘T explained my mission to the doctor in
charge and he promised to telephone me as
soon as it was possible for Jackley to see any
one. I’m convinced that the fellow had some-
thing to do with the Tower affair. It’s a cer-
tainty that he stole the automobile—the wig
proves that. By the same token it’s certain
that he was the man who tried to hold up the
ticket office. Having failed in that attempt, it
seems more than likely that an old-time crim-
inal like Jackley would look around for some-
thing else to do before he left Bayport.’’

‘*You say he used to work near here?’’ asked
Joe.

‘‘He was once employed by the railroad, and
he knows all the country around here well.
Then he got mixed up in some thefts from
freight cars and after he got out of jail he be-
came a professional criminal. It was when I
was looking over the records that I found out
about his fondness for wearing a red wig.
That was what eventually proved his undoing.
If he had not robbed the actor’s dressing room
to get the wig that he used when he was in Bay-
port, I would never have traced him.”’

Red Jackley 123

At that moment it was announced that Chief
Collig of the Bayport police force wished to see
Fenton Hardy. The detective winked at the
boys, and told the servant to show tho chief in.

Chief Collig entered the room, mopping his
brow with a handkerchief, for it was a hot
day and he was a stout man. Behind him came
Detective Smuff, fanning himself with a straw

at.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,’’ said Mr.
Hardy genially, ‘‘Won’t you sit down?’’

Chief Collig eased himself into an arm chair.
Detective Smuff leaned against the table. Both
glanced inquiringly at the two boys.

‘‘Unless your business is very private, I’d
just as soon have the boys stay,’’ suggested Mr.
Hardy pleasantly. He did not trust Chief
Collig and Detective Smuff, who came to him
only in emergencies and who usually took all
the credit for themselves whenever he helped
them out of their difficulties. He preferred to
have the boys present as witnesses.

‘‘How about it, chief?’’ asked Smuff heavily.
“‘Can they stay?’’

‘‘T guess so,’? grunted Chief Collig, undoing
the collar of his uniform. ‘‘Can’t do no good
and they can’t do no harm.’’

‘‘Well, gentlemen, to what do I owe the honor
of this visit?’? asked Mr. Hardy.

‘¢‘We’ve been hearin’ things about this Tower

124 The Tower Treasure

Mansion case,’’ observed Chief Collig gravely.
‘*You’ve been workin’ on it, eh?”’

“‘Perhaps.”’

**You’ve been out of town for quite a few
days. You must have been workin’ on it.’?

‘‘That’s what we dedooce, anyway,’’ put in
Detective Smuff.

‘‘Perhaps it’s my own business.’’

*‘Police business is everybody’s business,’’
declared Collig judicially. ‘‘What we want to
know is—did you find any clues?’’

Detective Smuff fished out the inevitable
notebook and pencil.

“‘T'll note ’em down, chief,’? he remarked.

‘*You may as well put back the notebook,
Smnuff,’? snapped Fenton Hardy, with annoy-
ance. ‘If I went away, it is my own business,
and if I am still working on the Tower robbery,
that’s my business too. I’ll thank you to keep
to your own affairs.’’

Chief Collig opened his mouth, then closed
it again. He took out his handkerchief and
mopped his brow, all the while staring at Fen-
ton Hardy. Then he turned and gazed at
Smuff.

“Detective Smuff,’? he said, in a solemn
voice, ‘‘did you hear that?’’

“T did.’?

‘“What do you think of it, Detective Smuff?”

“‘T think—I think—’’ Detective Smuff groped

Red Jackley 125

for an expression that would encompass the
magnitude of the offence, ‘‘I think Mr. Hardy
is guilty of obstructin’ the cause of justice,’’
he said grandly.

“Obstructing fiddlesticks!’’ said Mr. Hardy.
“I’m minding my own business, Which is more
than some police officers seem capable of do-
; 9?

Chief Collig sighed.

‘‘The trouble with you, Mr. Hardy,’’ he said,
‘tis that you won’t co-operate. If you co-oper-
ated a little more, we would all be farther
ahead. There ain’t any co-operation at all.
Here is me and Smuff, doin’ our best to drive
crime out of Bayport, and you won’t co-oper-
ate.’’

‘‘Perhaps the fact that there is a thousand
dollars reward in the case isn’t making you
anxious for some co-operation?’’ suggested
Fenton Hardy dryly.

‘“*Tt ain’t got nothin’ to do with it,’’ replied
Chief Collig virtuously. ‘‘We’re just anxious
to see this affair cleared up, that’s all. Now,
Mr. Hardy, we hear you were with the officers
that chased this here notorious criminal Red
Jackley.”’

Mr. Hardy gave a perceptible start. He had
no idea that news of the capture of Jackley had
reached Bayport, much less that news of his own
participation in the chase had reached the city.

126 The Tower Treasure

‘¢What of it?’’

‘Did Jackley have anything to do with this
here Tower case?’’

“How should I know?’’

‘“Wasn’t that what you were working on?’’

‘“‘That’s my affair.’’

Detective Smuff and Chief Collig looked at
one another.

‘*You ain’t co-operatin’,’’ complained Chief
Collig. ‘*You’re goin’ to put us to a whole
lot of worry and expense just because you
won’t give us a little co-operation.’’

“‘Just what do you mean?”’

‘Detective Smuff and me was thinkin’ of
goin’ over to the hospital where this man Jack-
ley is and givin’ him the third degree about the
Tower case.’’

Fenton Hardy’s lips narrowed into a straight
line.

‘*You can’t do that, The doctor won’t let you
see him.”?

‘‘We’re going to try, anyway. There’s a
train at seven o’clock, and we aim to have a
talk with this fellow Jackley to-night.’’

Mr, Hardy shrugged his shoulders.

‘‘Go ahead. It means nothing tome. But if
you take my advice you’ll stay away. You’ll
just spoil everything. Jackley will talk when
the time comes.”’

‘‘Oh, hol’? said Detective Smuff trium-

Red Jackley 127

phantly. ‘‘Then there ts something to it, hey?’’

‘‘T knew there was,’’ said Chief Collig.
‘*Come on, Smuff. We'll make this man Jackley
talk yet. We're officers of the law, we are, and
I’d like to see any doctor keep us from doin’
our duty.’’

He mopped his brow again, put on his hat,
nodded to Fenton Hardy, and clumped out of
the room. Detective Smuff, putting his note-
book into his pocket, followed. The door closed
behind them,

Mr. Hardy sat back with a gesture of despair.

“They'll spoil everything,’? he said.
‘‘They’re just so clumsy that Red Jackley will
close up like a clam if they try to make him
talk,??

‘‘Perhaps,’’? remarked Frank significantly,
‘‘they’ll miss their train.’’

At that moment the telephone rang. Mr.
Hardy answered it.

‘‘Hello—yes, this is Fenton Hardy—yes—
oh, yes, doctor—he is—well, well—is that so!—
won’t live until morning—I can see him!—fine
—thank you—good-bye.’’

He put back the receiver.

‘“‘There,’? he said wearily, ‘‘just my luck!
Red Jackley is dying, and the doctor says I
ean see him to-night. But Collig and Smuff
will have first right to talk to him, for they are
Officials and I’m only a private detective. If

128 The Tower Treasure

Jackley confesses, they’ll have the credit for
it.”?

‘‘They’ll just have to miss their train,’’ said
Frank. ‘‘Come on, Joe. Let’s see what we
can do.’’

CHAPTER XV
Tue Curer Gets a Boma

‘‘Waat’s up now?’ asked Joe, when the
Hardy boys had left the house.

‘‘Chief Collig and Detective Smuff must miss
that train.’’

‘“But how?’’

‘*T don’t know just yet, but they’ve got to
miss it. If they reach the hospital to-night
they’ll interview Jackley first. One of two
things will happen. They’ll either get a con-
fession and take all the credit for clearing up
the case, or they’ll go about it so clumsily that
Jackley will say nothing and spoil everything
for dad.”’

The Hardy boys walked along the street in
silence. They realized that the situation was
urgent, but although they racked their brains
trying to think of some way in which to prevent
Chief Collig and Detective Smuff from catch-
ing the train, it seemed hopeless.

‘‘Let’s round up the gang,’’ suggested Joe.
“‘Perhaps they can think of something.’’

129

130 The Tower Treasure

‘“‘The gang’’ consisted of the boys who had
been with Frank and Joe the day they held the
picnic in the woods. There was, of course, Chet
Morton. Besides him were Allen Hooper,
otherwise known as ‘‘Biff’’, because of his
passion for boxing, Jerry Gilroy, Phil Cohen
and Tony Prito, all students at the Bayport
high school. They were usually to be found
on the school campus after hours, playing ball,
and there the Hardy boys soon located them.
The game was just breaking up.

‘‘Pikers,’? grinned Chet Morton when he
saw the Hardy boys approaching. ‘‘You
wouldn’t play ball when we asked you to, and
now you come around when the game’s all
over.”’

‘“We had something more important on our
minds,’’ replied Frank. ‘‘We need your help.’’

‘“What’s the mattah?’’ asked Tony Prito.
Tony was the son of a prosperous Italian build-
ing contractor, but he had not yet been in
America long enough to talk the language with-
out an accent, and his attempts were frequently
the cause of much amusement to his com-
panions. He was quick and good-natured, how-
ever, and laughed as much at his own errors
as any one else did.

‘‘Chief Collig and Detective Smuff are but-
ting into one of dad’s cases,’’ said Frank. ‘‘We
can’t tell you much more about it than that.

The Chief Gets a Bomb 131

But the whole thing is that they mustn’t catch
the seven o’clock train.’’

‘What do you want us to do?”’ asked Biff
Hooper. ‘‘Blow up the bridge?”’

‘*We might lock Collig and Smuff in one of
their own cells,’’ suggested Phil Cohen.

‘¢And get locked in ourselves,’’ added Jerry
Gilroy. ‘‘Be sensible. Are you serious about
this, Frank?’’

‘“‘Absolutely. If those two catch that train
dad’s case will be ruined. And I don’t mind
telling you it has something to do with Perry
Robinson.’’

Chet Morton whistled.

‘‘Ah, ha! Isee now. The Tower affair. In
that case, we’ll see to it that the seven o’clock
train leaves here without our worthy chief and
his equally worthy—although dumb—detec-
tive.’?’ He hated Smuff, for the sleuth had once
or twice tried to arrest the boys for bathing in
a forbidden section of the bay.

‘‘There is only one question left,’’? said Phil
solemnly.

‘‘And what is that?”’

““How to keep them from getting on the
train.’’

‘“‘Get your brains to work, fellows—if you
have any,’’? ordered Jerry Gilroy. ‘‘Let’s
figure out a plan.”’

A dozen plans were suggested, each wilder

132 The Tower Treasure

than the one before. Biff Hooper was in favor
of kidnapping the chief and his detective, bind-
ing them hand and foot and setting them adrift
in the bay in an open boat.

Phil Cohen suggested putting the chief’s
watch an hour ahead. That plan, as Frank ob-
served, would have been a good one but for the
little difficulty of laying hands on the watch.

Chet Morton thought it would be a good idea
to start a fight in front of the police station just
as Collig and Smuff were about to leave for the
train. The possibility that they might all land
in jail as a result made this suggestion un-
popular.

‘Tf we were in Italy we could get the Black
Hand to help,’’ said Tony Prito.

‘The Black Hand!’’ declared Chet. ‘‘That’s
a good idea!’’

‘*We got no Black Hand society in Bayport,’’
objected Tony.

‘‘Let’s get one up. Send the chief a Black
Hand letter warning him not to take that
train.”’

‘And if he ever found who wrote it, we’d all
be up to our necks in trouble,’’ pointed out
Joe. ‘*I’d like to put a bomb under his old
police station.’’

‘‘Fine idea!’’ applauded Tony. ‘‘Where we
get the bomb?”’

‘‘Leave it to me,’’? announced Chet Morton

The Chief Gets a Bomb 133

mysteriously. ‘I’ll get a bomb. I’ll guarantee
to keep the chief in town.’’

‘‘Not a real bomb?”’ asked Frank.

‘Why not?’? said Chet. ‘Listen to me.’?

Chet proceeded to lay forth his plan in a
stealthy whisper. It was received with chuckles
and murmurs of admiration. His companions
clapped him on the back, and when he had
finished the boys hastened down the street
toward the Hardy home.

In the rear of the house were a garage and
an old barn. In the barn was a gymnasium that
the Hardy boys had fitted out for themselves,
and here was the usual collection of old toys,
footballs, broken baseball bats and such para-
phernalia, to be found wherever boys store their
cherished possessions, Frank groped about
among the rubbish in one corner until at last he
rose with an exclamation of triumph, holding
aloft a shining object.

*‘Tt’s here!’’ he said. ‘‘Let’s get busy.
There’s no time to lose.’’

An old box was quickly produced, and in it
the shining object was placed. The box was
then carefully wrapped up, and in a few minutes
the boys left the barn, Tony carrying the
package under one arm.

Not far from the Bayport police station was
a fruit stand over which presided an Italian by
the name of Rocco. He was a simple, genial

134 The Tower Treasure

soul, who believed almost everything he heard
and, like most of his countrymen, he was of an
excitable nature. Toward Rocco’s fruit stand
the boys made their way. Rocco was sorting
over his oranges when they approached.
Tony, with the box under his arm, hung in the
background, while Chet stepped boldly forward.

‘‘How much are your oranges, Rocco?’’ he
asked.

Rocco, with much explanatory waving of
arms, recited the prices of the various grades
of oranges.

“Too much. There’s a fellow at another
fruit stand on the next street sells them a nickel
a dozen cheaper ”’

‘‘He no can do!’’ shrieked Rocco. ‘‘My price
is da low.’’ Then, angered by this reflection on
the prices of his wares, he burst into a lengthy
explanation of the struggles confronting a poor
Italian trying to get along in a new country.
He grabbed Chet by the coat collar, dragged
him to a corner of the fruit stall, bade him in-
spect the fruit, gabbled off prices, and generally
worked himself into a state of high indignation.
In the meantime, Tony Prito made good use of
his time to shove the mysterious package under
the front of the stall. Then he joined the other
boys who had screened his movements by gath-
ering about Rocco.

‘*You’ll have the Black Hand after you if you

The Chief Gets a Bomb 135

keep on charging such high prices—that’s all
I can say!’’ declared Chet, as the boys moved
away.

“Poot ! W’at do I care for da Blacka Hand.
No frighten me!’’ said Rocco bravely, but he
gulped when he said it and there was no doubt
that the shot had gone home.

It was now after six o’clock, and the boys de-
cided that in the interests of their plan they
would have to brook the parental wrath by
being late for supper. Frank had assumed that
Chief Collig and Detective Smuff would be
leaving to catch the train at about ten minutes
to seven, so shortly after six-thirty, Phil Cohen,
who had remained in the background during the
interview with Rocco, walked smartly up to the
fruit stand again. The others were viewing
the scene from around the corner of a near-by
building.

‘‘Banana,’’ said Phil briefly, tossing a nickel
on the counter. When he had received the fruit
he began to eat it, at the same time chatting
with Rocco.

‘““W’at you t’ink?’’ snickered the Italian,
‘‘some boys come here a while ago and say da
Blacka Hand t’ink I charga too much for da
fruit.’’

‘“‘Well, you do charge too much, Rocco.
Everybody says so.’’

“T sella da good fruit at da good price.’’

136 The Tower Treasure

Phil turned aside and at the same time acci-
dentally knocked an apple to the ground. He
bent to pick it up, Rocco eyeing him narrowly
in case he tried to slip it into his pocket. But
Phil did not get up at once. Instead, he said:

*‘Oi! What’s this?’’

‘“W’at you find?’’

‘“What’s this, Rocco??? Phil rose from in
front of the stand, with the package in his
hands. ‘‘I found this under the counter.’’

Rocco stared. His mouth opened in dis-
may. For, sounding clearly from the inside of
the package, came a steady ‘‘tick-tock, tick-
tock.’?

‘“A bomb!’’ he shrieked. ‘‘Put heem down!’’

Thereupon he scrambled wildly over the
array of fruit at the back of the stand, knocked
over a tray of oranges, and went sprawling over
the opposite counter, roaring, ‘‘Police!’’ at the
top of his lungs.

Phil, with a fine imitation of fright, put the
package on top of the counter and fled.

Rocco, in his white apron, was dancing about
in the middle of the street, yelling, ‘‘Bombs!
Police! Da Blacka Hand!’’ Then, suddenly
fearing that the supposed bomb might explode
at any moment, he whirled rapidly about and
raced down the street away from the stand, in
the general direction of the police station.

He reached the doorway just as Chief Collig

The Chief Gets a Bomb 137

and Detective Smuff were leaving for the train.
Panting with fear and excitement, Rocco im-
plored them to save him from the Black
Handers who had put a bomb under his fruit
stand.

‘Da bomb, she go ‘teek-tock’’’, he wailed
‘‘She blowa da stand into da little piece!’’

‘‘A bomb!’’ exclaimed Chief Collig. ‘‘Surely
not in Bayport!’’

“‘T always thought there was Black Handers
around here,’’ said Smuff.

“She blowa up da fruit stand! Come
queeck!””

Chief Collig and Detective Smuff followed
Rocco to the corner. Then they peeped around
until they could see the deserted fruit stand,
with the package on the counter.

*“You say it goes ‘tick-tock’?”’

‘‘ Just lika da clock.’’

‘‘Must be a bomb, all right,’? said Smuff.
‘*They run by clockwork.’’

‘“‘Might go off any minute,’’ observed the
chief. ‘‘I hate to go near it. Smuff, you go
and pour a pail of water over it.”’

‘‘Me?”?

‘‘Yes, you. You’re not afraid, are yout”’

‘“‘No—I’m not afraid,’? muttered Smuff,
mopping his brow. ‘‘But I got to think of my
wife and family.’’

‘*Coward!’’ said the chief. ‘I’d do it my-

138 The Tower Treasure

self, only it wouldn’t be right, seein’ I’m your
superior officer. Bad for discipline.’’

The worthy officers stared at the package on
the fruit stand counter, while Rocco danced
with impatience. Neither Collig nor Smuff
dared approach closer, but they realized some-
thing must be done.

‘“Where’s Riley?’’ asked the chief at last.

‘‘Out on his beat, around the corner.’’

“Get him.’’

Smuff departed hastily, glad of the chance to
get away from the vicinity of the bomb. He
was some time in locating Con Riley, and when
at last that minion of the law was escorted back
to the chief, seven o’clock had come and gone.
So had the train.

CHAPTER XVI
A Conression

‘“‘Rigy!’’? ordered the chief, ‘‘see that
package on the counter of the fruit stand. Go
and get it and pour a pail of water over it.’’

‘“‘Huhf’’ exclaimed Riley, gaping.

‘‘Pour a pail of water over it.’’

Riley took off his helmet and scratched his
head. He began to wonder if his chief’s brain
had been affected by the heat.

‘‘Don’t stand there staring at me!’ snapped
Collig. ‘‘Hurry up and obey orders.’’

‘“‘This is the meanest job I ever got,’ ob-
served Con Riley. But he ambled across the
street, wondering why a crowd of people had
collected—for word had quickly spread that a
bomb had been found under Rocco’s fruit stand
—and when he reached the package he inspected
it wonderingly.

‘‘Mebbe she blowa him all to da bits!’? sug-
gested Rocco fearfully.

‘*He has insurance,’’ consoled the chief.

‘*We'’ll give him a good funeral,’’ observed

Smuff.
139

140 The Tower Treasure

Con Riley hunted around the fruit stand until
he found a pail, and then he went up the street
until he located a tap. Finally, with the pail
full of water, he went back to the fruit stand,
dumped the water over the package, and stood
awaiting further orders.

“Soak it again!’ roared the chief, who was
taking no chances.

Con Riley sighed, but did as he was told.
For five minutes he was kept busy dumping
innumerable pails of water over the package,
and only then did Chief Collig and Detective
Smuff venture forth. Then, with fear and
trembling, Chief Collig handed the package to
Smuff and bade him open it.

Smuff’s hands were shaking so that he could
scarcely tear apart the coverings from the
water-soaked parcel. The chief withdrew to a
safe distance. Con Riley, who had just been
told by a friend that he had been pouring water
over a live bomb, was trying to achieve a sickiy
smile as the crowd congratulated him on his
bravery.

Detective Smuff opened the package. The
coverings fell away. The cardboard box, drip-
ping with water, tumbled apart.

A bright object fell to the pavement with a
clatter.

Everybody jumped.

But there was no cause for fear. The bright

A Confession 141

object was nothing more harmful than an old
alarm clock.

The Hardy boys and their chums, mingling
with the crowd, roared with laughter, and when
the crowd saw how Chief Collig and his assist-
ants had been duped they joined in the merri-
ment,

‘An alarm clock!’’ roared some one. ‘‘They
thought an alarm clock was a bomb. Pouring
water over an alarm clock!’’

Chief Collig and Smuff returned to the police
station with all the dignity they could muster
under the circumstances, The crowd howled
and whooped with laughter.

The Hardy boys went home smiling. The
seven o’clock train had left half an hour before.
Their father was making the trip to the city
without the interferance of the chief and his
assistant, Smuff.

Fenton Hardy returned home late that night,
and at the breakfast table next morning he was
in high spirits.

‘“‘Solved another mystery?’? asked Mrs.
Hardy gaily, as she poured the coffee. She
seldom asked questions about her husband’s
work, being of a gentle nature that instinc-
tively shrank from any discussion of crime. It
frequently distressed her that Mr. Hardy’s oc-
cupation should be one that meant terms of im-
prisonment for those whom his cunning and

142 The Tower Treasure

cleverness had brought to justice. But her
husband’s attitude this morning was so unmis-
takably jubilant that she was glad for his sake
if he had scored another success.

‘‘Practically solved, my dear. If you’d care
to hear all about it—’’

‘‘Not me. You know I don’t care to hear
about these terrible things.’’

‘*Well, the boys shall hear of it then. They
are interested. If theyll come into my den
after breakfast I’ll tell them all about it.’’

‘“‘That means you succeeded,’’ Frank said.

‘*Kat your bacon and eggs and don’t be im-
patient.’’

After breakfast the boys went with their
father into the den off the library, eagerly
awaiting news of his mission of the previous
evening. They had not told him how Chief Col-
lig and Detective Smuff had missed the train,
but they were shrewdly certain that their efforts
in this respect had been of considerable assist-
ance to Mr. Hardy.

‘‘First of all,’’ said the detective, ‘‘Jackley
is dead.’’

‘Did he confess?”’

‘*You’re not very sympathetic for the poor
fellow. Yes, he confessed. Fortunately, Chief
Collig and Detective Smuff didn’t show up—’’

Fenton Hardy saw that Joe and Frank
glanced at one another, and he smiled quietly.

A Confession 143

“‘T have an idea that you two scamps know
more about that than you would care to tell.
However, they failed to show up, and I had a
clear field ahead of me. I saw Jackley just be-
fore he died. And I questioned him about the
Tower robbery.”’

‘‘He admitted it?’’

‘‘He admitted everything. He said he came
to Bayport with the intention of robbing the
ticket office. When he failed in that attempt he
decided to hang around for a few days, and then
he hit upon Tower Mansion as his next effort.
He entered the place and opened the safe.
Then he took the jewels and the bonds.’’

‘sWhat did he do with the loot?’’

“That’s what I’m coming to. I had quite a
time making Jackley confess to the Tower
affair and it was not until he was on the point
of death that he admitted it. Then he said,
‘Yes, I took the stuff—but I couldn’t get away
with it. You can get it back easily. I hid it in
the old tower—’

‘‘That was all he said. He became uncon-
scious then and died in a few minutes. Just
why he couldn’t get away with the loot and
why he hid it in the tower, I don’t know. He
didn’t have time to tell me. But he said it was
hidden in the old tower.’?

‘“Why, we'll find it in no time!’’ exclaimed
Frank. ‘Tower Mansion has two towers—the

144 The Tower Treasure

the old and the new. We'll search the old
tower.’’

‘‘The story seems likely enough,’’ said Mr.
Hardy. ‘‘Jackley would gain nothing by lying
about it when he was on his deathbed. He
probably became frightened after he committed
the robbery and hid in the old tower until he
saw the coast was clear and he was able to get
away. Then no doubt he decided to hide the
stuff there and take a chance on coming back
for it some time after the affair had blown
over.’’

‘‘That was why he couldn’t be traced through
the jewels and the bonds,’’ Joe said. ‘They
were never disposed of at all. They’ve been
lying in the old tower all this time.’’

“T tried to get him to tell me in just what
part of the tower the loot was hidden,’’ con-
tinued Fenton Hardy, ‘‘but he died before he
could say any more. ‘I hid it in the old tower’.
He just managed to gasp that out before he be-
came unconscious.”’

‘Tt shouldn’t be hard to find the stuff, now
that we have a general idea of where it is,’’
Frank pointed out. ‘‘Probably he didn’t hide
it very carefully. The old tower has been un-
occupied for a long time and it is rarely
entered. The stuff would be as safe there as if
he had hidden it miles away.’’

Joe got up from his chair,

A Confession 145

‘‘T think we ought to get busy and go search
the old tower right away. Oh, boy! If we can
only hand old Applegate his jewels and bonds
this morning and clear Mr. Robinson. Let’s
start.’’

‘<T’ll leave it to you boys to make the search,’’
said Mr. Hardy, with a smile. ‘‘I’ve no doubt
the stuff will be easily recovered, and you can
have the satisfaction of turning it over to Mr.
Applegate. I guess you can get along without
me in this case from now on.’’

‘We wouldn’t have got very far if it hadn’t
been for you.’’

‘‘And I wouldn’t have got very far if it
hadn’t been for you, so we’re even,’’ smiled
Mr. Hardy. ‘‘Be on your way, then, and good
luck to you.’’

‘‘We’ll find it, never fear,’? promised Frank,
putting on his cap. ‘‘I hope the Applegates
don’t throw us out when we ask to be allowed
to look around in the old tower.”’

‘‘Just tell them you have a pretty good clue
to where the bonds and jewels are hidden and
they'll let you search to your heart’s content,’’
Mr. Hardy advised.

‘‘Come on then, Joe. We'll have that
thousand dollar reward before the morning is
over.”?

Their father glanced at them shrewdly.

*‘Don’t count your chickens before they are

146 The Tower Treasure

hatched,’’ he said. And then, as the boys
hastened out of the den, he called after them:
‘‘Also, you might remember the old proverb
that there is many a slip between the cup and
the lip.’’

But the Hardy boys scarcely heard him, so
eager were they to begin searching the old
tower and so confident were they that the
mystery was about to be cleared up.

CHAPTER XVII
Tun Szanou or THE Tower

Wuen the Hardy boys reached Tower Man-
sion that morning the door was answered by
Hurd Applegate himself. The tall, stooped
gentleman peered at them through his thick-
lensed glasses. In one hand he held a sheet of
stamps, for it was his custom to devote the
mornings to his collection.

‘“Yes?’’ he said testily, for he was annoyed
at being disturbed. ‘“What do you boys want
here at this hour of day?’’

‘*You remember us, don’t you?”’ asked Frank
politely. ‘‘We’re Mr. Hardy’s sons.’’

‘‘Wenton Hardy, the detective? Are you his
boys?’’

‘“Yes, sir.”’

‘“Well, what do you want?’’

‘*We’d like to take a look through the old
tower, if you don’t mind. We've got a new clue
about the robbery you had here a while ago.’’

‘Want to look through the old tower? Of
all the impudence! What do you want to look

147

148 The Tower Treasure

through the tower for? And what has that got
to do with the robbery?’’

‘“We have evidence that leads us to believe
the jewels and bonds were hidden in the tower
by the thief.’’

“Oh! You have evidence, have you?’? The
old man peered at them very closely. It’s that
rascal Robinson, I’ll warrant. He hid the stuff
there, and now he’s put you up to going and
finding it, just to clear himself.’’

The Hardy boys had not considered the affair
in this light, and they gazed at Mr. Applegate
in consternation. At last Joe found his tongue.

‘*Mr. Robinson isn’t mixed up in this at all,’’
he said. ‘‘The real thief was found. He said
the stuff was hidden in the old tower. If you
will just let us take a look around, we'll find it
for you.’’

‘“Who was the real thief, then?’’

‘We can’t tell you just now, sir. Wait till we
find the stolen goods and we'll tell you the
whole story.’’

Mr. Applegate took off his glasses and wiped
them with his handkerchief. He glared at the
boys suspiciously for a few moments, Then
he called out:

‘‘ Adelia!l’?

A high cracked voice from the dim regions
of the hallway answered.

‘“What d’you want?’’

The Search of the Tower 149

*‘Come here a minute.’’

There was a rustle of skirts, and then Adelia
Applegate, maiden sister of the owner of Tower
Mansion, appeared. She was a faded blonde
woman, of thin features, and she was dressed
in a gown of a fashion fifteen years back, in
which every color of the spectrum fought for
supremacy.

‘“What’s the matter now?’’ she demanded.
“‘Can’t a body sit down to do a bit of sewin’
without you hollerin’ at them?’’

‘“‘These boys want to look through the old
tower.’’

‘What for? Up to some mischief, I’ll be
bound.’’

‘“‘They think they can find the bonds and
jewels.’?

“Oh, they do, do they?’’ sniffed the woman.
*¢ And what would the bonds and jewels be doin’
in the old tower?’’

‘*We have evidence that they were hidden
there after the robbery,’’ replied Frank.

Miss Applegate sniffed again and viewed the
boys with frank suspicion.

‘Asif any thief would be fool enough to hide
them right in the house he robbed!’’

‘These are Mr. Hardy’s boys,’’ explained
Hurd Applegate. ‘‘He is the big detective, you
know.’’

‘<All detectives,’’ said Miss Applegate, ‘‘are

150 The Tower Treasure

nosey. Always pryin’ into other people’s
affairs.’’

‘“We’re just trying to help you,’’ put in Joe
politely.

*“‘Go ahead, then. Go ahead,’”’ said Miss
Applegate, with a sigh. ‘‘Come around at this
hour of morning, disturbing honest folks. Go
ahead, and tear the old tower to pieces if you
like. But I’ll be bound you won’t find anything.
It’s all foolishness, You won’t find anything.”’

Consent having been given, Hurd Applegate
led the way through the gloomy halls and cor-
ridors of the mansion toward the old tower.
He was inclined to share his sister’s view that
the boys’ search would be in vain.

‘‘Might as well save yourselves the trouble,’’
he declared: ‘‘You won’t find anything in the
old tower. If anything was hidden there it’s
been taken away by this time.’’

‘We'll make a try at it, anyway, Mr. Apple-
gate.’’

‘‘Don’t ask me to help you. I’ve got better
things todo. Just got some new stamps in this
morning and you interrupted me when I was
sortin’ them out. I’ve got to get back to my
work,’’

The man led the way into a corridor that
was heavy with dust. It had not been in use for
a long time and it was bare and unfurnished.
Leading off this corridor was a heavy door. It

The Search of the Tower 151

was unlocked, and when Mr. Applegate opened
it the boys saw that a flight of stairs lay be-
yond.

‘‘There you are. Those stairs lead up into
the tower. Search away. You won’t find any-
thing.’’

“‘T hope we do, Mr. Applegate,’’ said Frank.
‘‘And I’m pretty sure we shall.”’

‘*Yes—boys are always goin’ to do wonders.
Go ahead. Live and learn. Waste your time.’’

And with this parting shot, Hurd Applegate
turned and hobbled back along the corridor, the
sheet of stamps still in his gnarled hand. He
was muttering to himself as he departed. The
Hardy boys looked at one another.

‘“‘Not very encouraging, is he, Frank?’’

‘Not a bit of it. But it will be so much the
better for us if we get the stuff back for him.
He won’t think we were wasting our time then.’

‘‘Let’s get up into the tower. I’m anxious to
start.’’

The tower was about five stories in height,
as compared with the rest of the mansion, which
had but three stories. The lower floor was
empty. The floors and walls were heavy with
dust. Frank and Joe first examined the stairs
carefully for footprints, but there were none
to be seen.

‘‘That seems queer,’’ remarked Frank, ‘‘If
Jackley had been in here within the past month

152 The Tower Treasure

you’d think his footprints would still show. By
the appearance of this dust, there hasn’t been
any one in the tower for at least a year.’

‘Perhaps the dust collects more quickly than
we think. It may have covered his footprints
over even within a couple of weeks.’’

An inspection of the ground floor revealed
the fact that there was no place where the loot
could have been hidden, save under the stairs,
and there was nothing in that place of conceal-
ment. Accordingly, the Hardy boys ascended
to the next floor, finding themselves in a room
as drab and bare as the one they had just left.
Here again the dust lay heavy and the murky
windows were thick with cobwebs. There was
an atmosphere of age and decay about the en-
tire place. It seemed to have been abandoned
for years.

‘Nothing here,’’ said Frank, after a quick
glance around. ‘‘On we go.’’

They made their way up to the next floor,
after again poking about under the stairs, but
again without success.

The next room was a duplicate of the first.
It was bare and cheerless, deep in dust. There
was not the slightest sign of a hiding place.
Much less was there any indication that another
human being had been in the tower for years.

‘“‘Doesn’t look very promising, Joe. Still,
he may have gone right to the top of the tower.’’

The Search of the Tower 153

So the search continued, until at last the
Hardy boys had reached the top of the tower.
Here they emerged into the open air, coming
through a trapdoor that led through the roof
from the upper room. They were now standing
on a platform, and far below them lay the
city of Bayport. To the east was Barmet Bay,
the waters sparkling in the sun.

The platform was quite bare. The stone
walls gave no opportunity of a hiding place.
Their search had been in vain.

‘“We were fooled, I guess,’’ Frank admitted.
“‘There hasn’t been any one in this tower for
years. I knew it as soon as I saw there were
no footprints.’’

The boys gazed moodily down over the city,
and then down over the grounds of Tower Man-
sion. The roofs of the-mansion itself were far
below, and directly across from them rose the
heavy bulk of the new tower.

“‘Do you think he might have meant the new
tower?’ exclaimed Joe suddenly.

‘‘Dad said he specified the old one.’’

‘“‘But he may have been mistaken. In the
darkness and everything, perhaps he didn’t
know the difference.’’

‘“‘That’s possible, too. It’s certain that he
didn’t hide anything in this tower, at any
tate. Although why he should say ‘the old
tower’—’’

154 The Tower Treasure

‘‘Let’s ask Mr. Applegate if we can search
the new tower, too.’’

‘“What a fine chance we have! He’ll crow
over us now in real earnest when we go back
and tell him we didn’t find anything. He’ll say
‘I told you so’, and if we try to get into the new
tower he’ll just laugh at us.’’

“‘Tt’s worth trying, anyway. We can tell
him the whole story about Jackley. That ought
to convince him.’’

Disappointed, the Hardy boys descended
through the trapdoor, and then made their way
down through the tower until at last they were
in the long gloomy hallway again. Their
clothes were covered with dust and their hands
and faces were grimy. Slowly, they trudged
back into the main part of the mansion again,
and there they met Adelia Applegate, who
popped out of a doorway as they were passing
and cackled with delight.

‘‘So these are the fine boys who were going
to find the stolen stuff for us, eh!’’ she ex-
claimed, in her cracked voice. ‘‘So these are
the boys who were so sure it was hidden in the
old tower! Well, well! And they didn’t find
anything after all!’’

‘I’m afraid we didn’t, Miss Applegate,’
Frank answered, with a smile. ‘‘But if you
and Mr. Applegate will let us tell our story I
think we can convince you that we really

The Search of the Tower 155

thought the stuff was hidden there. Even yet
I believe it is hidden somewhere in the man-
sion—probably in the new tower.’”’

‘‘In the new tower!’’ she sniffed. ‘‘ Absurd!
I suppose you'll want to go poking through
there now.’’

‘‘If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.’’

‘*It would be too much trouble, indeed !’’ she
shrilled. ‘‘I shan’t have any boys rummag-
ing all through my house on a wild-goose chase
like this. You’d better leave right away, and
forget all this nonsense.’’

Her voice had attracted the attention of
Hurd Applegate, who came hobbling out of his
study at that moment.

‘‘Now what’s the matter?’’ he demanded.
Then, seeing the boys, his face became creased
in a triumphant smile.

‘‘Ah, ha! So you didn’t find anything after
all! Heh! Heh!’’ he began to chuckle, im-
mensely pleased with himself. ‘I told you
8o0.’?

CHAPTER XVIII
Tur New Towrk

‘‘T Hey have the audacity to want to go look-
ing through the new tower now,’’ said Miss
Applegate, in high indignation.

Hurd Applegate’s smile vanished.

**You can’t do anything of the sort!’’ he
snapped. ‘‘Are you boys trying to make a fool
out of me? I knew mighty well you wouldn’t
find anything in the old tower.’’

‘‘And we were pretty sure we would,’’ an-
swered Frank. ‘‘Listen, Mr. Applegate—we’ll
be fair with you. We'll tell you exactly why
we wanted to make this search.’’

*¢Go ahead and tell me. Why didn’t you tell
me before?”?’

‘‘Because we wanted to work this out our-
selves, as far as possible. But the informa-
tion we had came from the man who stole the
jewels and the bonds.’’

‘“What! Has he beeu caught?”’

‘‘He was captured—but he will never come

to trial.’’
156

The New Tower 157

*‘Did he escape again?’’

‘*He escaped—by death. The thief is dead.’’

‘“‘Dead? What happened?’’ asked Hurd
Applegate excitedly.

‘‘His name was Red Jackley, and he was a
notorious criminal. He was tracked down by
our father, and when he tried to escape on a
railroad hand-car he got into a smash-up, and
he was fatally injured. But before he died, he
admitted robbing Tower Mansion.

‘‘He admitted it? He confessed?’’

‘*He confessed everything.’’

“‘T don’t believe it,’’ sniffed Adelia Apple-
gate. ‘‘Nothing will ever convince me that it
wasn’t that rascal Robinson.’’

*‘Jackley confessed the whole business,’’
Frank persisted. ‘‘And on his deathbed he
said that he hadn’t been able to get away with
the loot. That he had hidden it.’’

‘“Where?”’

*“In the old tower.’’

‘(And it isn’t there?’’

‘¢ Joo and I have just searched the place high
and low. The stuff isn’t there. And from the
fact that there are no footprints or marks of
any kind in the dust, I don’t think any one has
been in the place for a long time.’’

‘<The old tower has been closed for years.’’

‘So we thought,’’ Joe interjected, ‘‘that he
might have been mistaken and that he had

158 The Tower Treasure

really hidden the stuff in the new tower in-
stead.’’

Hurd Applegate rubbed his chin medita-
tively. His manner toward the boys had un-
dergone a change, and it was evident that he
was impressed by their story.

‘‘So this fellow confessed to the robbery,
eh?”?

‘‘He admitted everything. He was a man
who once worked around Bayport and he knew
this locality pretty well. He had been hanging
around the city for some days before the rop-
bery.’’

‘‘Well,’’? said Applegate slowly, ‘‘if he says
he hid the stuff in the old tower and it isn’t
there, he must have meant the new tower, just
as you say.’’

‘“Will you let us search it?’’

*‘T’ll do more than that. I'll help you. I’m
just as anxious to get the jewels and bonds
back as anybody.’’

‘<All nonsense!’’ declared Adelia Applegate.
*‘Tt’s all a pack of falsehoods. I don’t believe
a word of it.’’

‘‘Now, now, Adelia,’’ said her brother sooth-
ingly, ‘‘these boys may be right after all. It
won’t hurt to take a look around, at any rate.’’

‘And much you’ll find, I’m sure! I declare,
Hurd Applegate, you’re just as bad as those
boys are.’’

The New Tower 159

‘“Maybe, maybe,’’ he answered. ‘‘But I’m
going to help them search the new tower, any-
way.’’

‘‘Don’t ask me to brush the dust off your
clothes when you come back, then. For that’s
all you’ll get. Dust. Nothing more. The
jewels and bonds are no more in the new tower
than they are back in the safe right now.’’

‘CAll right, Adelia. Perhaps you’re right.
But it won’t hurt to make a search, anyway.
Come on, boys.’’

With that, Hurd Applegate led the way down
the hall and opened the door leading to a corri-
dor that extended toward the new tower. Frank
and Joe, tingling with excitement, followed.

Although the new tower had been built just
a few years back and although its rooms had
been furnished, it had been seldom occupied,
save on the rare occasions when the Applegates
had visitors from the city. The new caretaker,
employed to replace Robinson, was a lazy and
slovenly fellow, who did not bother to extend
his duties to the tower, knowing that the
Applegates seldom went near that part of the
Inansion and realizing that any laxity in his
duties in that respect would scarcely be discov-
ered. It came as a surprise to Hurd Apple-
gate, then, to find out that the new tower was
dusty, that the windows had not been cleaned,
that there were cobwebs on the ceilings.

160 The Tower Treasure

In the first room they found nothing, al-
though they rummaged about in all the corners,
looked beneath the table, behind the chairs—
looked everywhere, in fact. Not until they
were quite satisfied that the loot had not been
hidden there, did they ascend the stairs to the
next room, and there again their search was
fruitless.

Hurd Applegate, being a quick-tempered
man, fell back into his old mood. The boys’
story had convinced him, and he had been even
more certain than they that the stolen bonds
and jewels would indeed be found in the new
tower. But when two of the tower rooms had
been thoroughly searched without success, his
disappointment increased.

‘‘Don’t believe there was anything in that
yarn, after all,’’ he muttered, as they went up
the stairs to the third room.

**I don’t see why he should lie about it, after
he confessed,’? remarked Frank thoughtfully.
‘‘Dad told us that he admitted not being able to
get away with the stuff.’’

‘‘Then where did he hide it?’’? demanded
Applegate. ‘‘If he wasn’t lying, the stuff must
be around here some place.’’

‘‘Perhaps he hid it a little more carefully
than we imagine,’’ put in Joe,

‘“‘Haven’t we hunted carefully enough?’’
Hurd Applegate snapped.

The New Tower 161

In the third room their search was again in
vain. They even inspected the window ledges
and tapped the floors and ceiling in the faint
hope of finding some secret cupboard that was
unknown to them.

But the loot was not found.

When at last they emerged through the trap-
door in the roof, out on top of the rear tower,
and found it to be bare and empty, Applegate
could not disguise his chagrin.

‘“Wild-goose chase!’’ he snorted. ‘‘Adelia
was right. I’ve been made a fool of.’’

‘*You don’t think we would make up a story
like that, do you, Mr. Applegate?’’ Frank asked.

“‘T don’t see any reason why you should.
Bat there’s something wrong somewhere. I’ve
wasted half a morning poking around through
this confounded tower—all for nothing.’’

‘“So have we.’’

“Tf that fellow did hide the stuff in one of
the towers, some one else must have come
along and got it. That’s the only way I can
figure it out. He had some one working with
him, Or else Robinson found the stuff—That’s
more likely! Probably Robinson found the
loot right after the robbery and kept it for
himself.’’

‘“‘T don’t think he would do that. He isn’t
that kind of man,’’ Joe objected.

‘‘With all that money in front of him? I

162 The Tower Treasure

wouldn’t put it past him for a minute. Where
did he get that nine hundred dollars, then?
Explain that. He can’t. He won’t tell.’

As they descended the stairs and went back
into the main part of the mansion, Hurd
Applegate elaborated on this theory. The fact
that the loot had not been found in the face of
Red Jackley’s story, seemed to strengthen his
conviction that Robinson had something to do
with the affair.

‘‘Hither Robinson found the stuff and kept
it, or else he was in league with Jackley!’’ said
Applegate. ‘‘He’s mixed up in it some way.
I’m sure of that.’’

The boys could say nothing. They realized
that the theory was probable, although in their
hearts they found it hard to believe that their
chum/’s father could have had anything to do
with the theft. They were deeply puzzled and
tremendously disappointed, for they had been
practically certain that the loot would be found.
Now they saw that the only consequence of the
whole affair was to involve Mr. Robinson more
deeply than ever in the mystery.

Back in the hallway they endured the taunts
of Adelia Applegate, who cackled jubilantly
when she saw that the searching party had re-
turned empty-handed.

‘‘There now!’’ she crowed. ‘*Who’s right
now? Didn’t I tell you it was all nonsense?

The New Tower 163

Hurd Applegate, you’ve simply been made a
fool of by these two boys.’’

‘‘Now, Adelia, I think they meant well—’’

‘‘Meant well! Of course they meant well!
And what did it gain you? They have prowled
through the place all morning and all the good
that’s come of it is that perhaps you won’t be
so ready to believe the next cock-and-bull story
some one tells you. Go back to your stamps,
Hurd Applegate, and let it be a lesson to you.
As for you boys, you should be ashamed of
yourselves, disturbing folks like this!’

Whereupon she escorted the Hardy boys to
the door, while Hurd Applegate, muttering
sadly, went back to his study with a puzzled
air.

CHAPTER XIX
Tur Mystery Deepens

Frenron Harpy was dumbfounded when his
sons returned to him with the news that the
loot had been found in neither the old tower
nor the new. So implicitly had he believed in
the dying confession of Red Jackley that he
had not even bothered to join in the search,
preferring to let his sons have the satisfaction
of recovering the stolen goods that he was
positive were hidden in the old tower.

‘And you’re sure you searched the place
thoroughly?’’ he asked, for the third time.

‘<Kivery inch of it. There was nothing in the
old tower. No one had been there in weeks,’’
answered Frank.

‘‘How could you tell?’’

“‘By the dust. It hadn’t been disturbed.
There wasn’t a footprint of any kind.’’

“But you searched anyway.’’

‘“We went through the tower from top to
bottom,’’ Frank replied. ‘‘It wasn’t any use.
No one had been there. So then we thought

164

The Mystery Deepens 165

Jackley might have been mistaken and that he
had left the stuff in the other tower.’’

‘(And Applegate let you search that as
well??? and Fenton Hardy’s eyes twinkled.

‘‘Not until we had told him our reasons, We
told him about Jackley, and then he became en-
thusiastic and even helped us in the search.
But we didn’t find anything.”’

““Strange,’? muttered the detective. ‘TI
know Jackley wasn’t lying. He had nothing to
gain by deceiving me. Absolutely nothing. He
was in real earnest if ever a man was. ‘TI hid it
in the old tower.’ Those were his words. He
would have told more if he had been .able.
And what could he mean but the old tower of
Tower Mansion? Why should he be so care-
ful to say the old tower. Every one knows the
mansion has two towers, the old and the new.”’

“<Of course, it may be that we didn’t search
thoroughly enough,’’ Joe said. ‘The stuff
may be hidden in the flooring or behind the
walls.’’

“‘That’s the only solution I can think of,’’
replied Fenton Hardy. ‘‘I’m not satisfied yet
that the loot isn’t there. I’m going to get in
touch with Applegate and ask permission for a
real, thorough search of both towers. It’s to
his interest as well as mine.”’

‘Applegate thinks possibly Jackley hid the
stuff all right but that Robinson found it and

166 The Tower Treasure

sold it,’? said Frank. ‘‘He hinted that he was
of the opinion that Robinson was in league
with the thief.’’

“Tt does look rather bad,’? Mr. Hardy ad-
mitted. ‘‘One couldn’t blame Applegate very
much for thinking Robinson found the stuff
after it was hidden and made away with it.’’

‘‘Robinson wouldn’t do that!’’ cried Joe.
‘*He’s too honest!’?

*‘T don’t think he would do it, either. But
sometimes, if a man is in need of money and
temptation is placed in his way, he gives in.
I’d hate to believe that of Robinson, but if
that stuff isn’t found in the tower I'll have to
admit that it looks very much as if he were
mixed up in it.’’

The interview with their father left the
Hardy boys feeling far from cheerful, for they
saw that Mr. Robinson was now more deeply
involved in the affair than before. On the face
of it, circumstances seemed to be against the
caretaker.

‘‘Just the same,’’ said Frank, as the boys
left the house and went down the street, ‘‘I
don’t believe Jackley ever hid the stuff in the
tower. If he had ever so much as opened the
tower door he would have left some marks in
the dust and we would have seen them. So I
don’t believe Robinson came along later and
got the loot.’’

The Mystery Deepens 167

**As we saw it, the dust in the tower hadn’t
been disturbed in weeks. Why, there was even
dust on the door-knob, when Mr. Applegate let
us in.’’

‘‘Then, why should Jackley say he hid the
stuff there?’’ exclaimed Frank, puzzled.

‘Don’t ask me. I’m just as much in the
dark as you are.’’

When the boys reached the business section
of the city they found that already Jackley’s
confession had become common property.
People were discussing the deathbed confes-
sion on the street corners and newsboys were
busy selling copies of papers in which the
story of the criminal’s last statement was fea-
tured on the front page under black headlines.

Policeman Con Riley was ambling along
Main Street in the morning sunshine, swinging
his club with the air of a man without a care
in the world. When he saw the boys he
frowned, for there was no love lost between the
Hardys and the Bayport police department.

‘“‘Well,’? he grunted, ‘‘I hear you got the
stuff back.’’

“‘T wish we had,’’ said Frank.

‘“sWhat?’’ said the constable, brightening up
at once. ‘You didn’t get it? I thought it said
in the paper this morning that this fellow Jack-
ley told where he had hidden it.’’

‘*He did.’’

168 The Tower Treasure

‘And you can’t find it! Ho! Ho!’? Con
Riley indulged in a hearty laugh. ‘‘What a
fine detective your father is! Didn’t Jackley
say the stuff was hidden in the old tower?
What more does he want?”’

‘‘Our father didn’t search for the stuff,’’ re-
torted Frank. ‘‘We did. And it wasn’t there.
Jackley must have made a mistake.”’

“It wasn’t there?’’ exclaimed Riley, in high
delight. ‘‘That’s a good one. That’s the best
I’ve heard in years.’ He chuckled exceed-
ingly, and slapped his knee. ‘‘Jackley put a
good one over on your father that time. Ho!
Hot Ho! The stuff wasn’t there!’

Riley wiped the tears from his eyes and
went on his way, trying to laugh and at the
same time retain his dignity as an officer of the
law. The joke, he decided, was too good to
keep, so as he proceeded back toward the police
station, there to edify Chief Collig and Detec-
tive Smuff with the tale, he buttonholed vari-
ous passers-by and poured the story into their
willing ears. It was not long before the yarn
had spread throughout the city with that swift-
ness peculiar to stories spread by word of
mouth, and in the telling the story was exag-
gerated, the net effect being that Fenton Hardy
was made to look ridiculous by believing a
false confession.

Highly colored accounts of the boys’ search

The Mystery Deepens 169

of the old tower quickly spread, and through-
out the day they were subjected to many
caustic and sarcastic inquiries on the part of
friends and acquaintances alike. They took all
these remarks in good part, although they did
not enjoy their sudden prominence.

‘‘Never mind,’’ said Frank, ‘‘we’ll show
them yet.’’

“‘T hope they find that stuff when they search
the towers again,’? added Joe. ‘‘Then the
people will have to eat crow. It'll be our turn
to laugh.’’

**Yes,’’? agreed Frank; ‘‘but just now our
laughter seems to be in a far-distant future.’’

When they returned home they found that
Fenton Hardy had been busy in the meantime
and had convinced Hurd Applegate that a thor-
ough search of the towers would be advisable.
True, he had not accomplished this without a
great deal of opposition on the part of Adelia
and without misgivings on the part of Hurd
Applegate himself, who had by that time come
to the conclusion that Robinson had indeed
been mixed up in the affair all along.

In this conviction he was sustained by Chief
Collig, who had paid a call at the Applegate
home as soon as Collig had told him of the vain
search of the towers.

‘<The chief says Robinson is behind it, and I’m
beginnin’ to think he’s right,’’ said Applegate.

170 The Tower Treasure

‘‘But how about the confession?’’ Mr. Hardy
asked.

‘‘The chief says that’s all a blind. Jackley
did it to protect Robinson. They were both
working together.’’

“I know it looks bad for Robinson, but I
don’t think it would hurt to give the towers
another thorough search. I was the one who
heard Jackley make the confession and I don’t
believe he was lying. I believe he was trying
to tell me all he knew.’’

‘SMaybe. Maybe. I think he was too smart
for you, Mr. Hardy, and everybody else thinks
so too. It was all a hoax.’’

“T’ll believe that after I’ve searched the
towers inside and out.’’

‘“Well, go ahead. Go as far as you like. But
I don’t think you'll find that treasure.’’

With that, Mr. Hardy was content. He
made preparations for a search of the towers,
although Adelia Applegate flatly declared that
the detective was making a laughing-stock of
her and her brother and that if the nonsense
continued she would leave Tower Mansion for-
ever and carry out her oft-expressed intention
of going to one of the South Sea Islands as a
missionary.

In spite of the protestations of the worthy
lady, however, the search was carried out. The
old tower was visited first, and for the greater

The Mystery Deepen: 171

part of the following morning the place was
searched from top to bottom. Even the floors
were torn up in places in the quest for some
secret hiding place in which Jackley might
have left the loot.

But although Fenton Hardy, accompanied
by the boys and Hurd Applegate, who soon be-
came infected with the dogged enthusiasm of
the others and lent every assistance in his
power, hunted throughout the old tower in
every conceivable place, the missing jewels and
bonds were not recovered.

‘‘Nothing left but to search the new tower,’’
Mr. Hardy commented briefly, when the search
‘was over, and throughout the whole afternoon
the new tower was the scene of a search that
was as thorough as it was fruitless.

Walls and partitions were tapped, floors
were sounded, furniture was minutely ex-
amined—not an inch of space escaped the min-
ute scrutiny of the detective and his helpers.
But as the search wore on and the loot still
evaded discovery, the chagrin of Fenton Hardy
deepened and Hurd Applegate finally lost his
temper.

‘SA hoax!’’ he declared. ‘‘A hoax from
start to finish.’’

‘<The man was in earnest!’’ the detective in-
sisted.

‘‘Then where is the stuff?’’

172 The Tower Treasure

‘‘Some one else may have found it. That’s
the only explanation I can think of.’’

‘“Who else could have taken it but Robin-
son???’

To this, Mr. Hardy was silent. In spite of
his knowledge of and liking for the man, he
was beginning to suspect that the caretaker
may have had a hand in the affair after all.

‘‘Hither that or Jackley simply told that
yarn to shield Robinson,’’ declared Applegate.

‘I’m not going to give up this search yet,’’
said Mr. Hardy patiently. ‘‘Perhaps the loot
was hidden somewhere about the grounds.’’

So the grounds of Tower Mansion, particnu-
larly in the vicinity of the two towers, were
thoroughly searched. The shrubbery was in-
spected but to no avail.

The search continued until sundown, and by
that time Adelia Applegate was pale with
wrath, for the place, as she expressed it, had
been ‘‘turned upside down,’’ Hurd Applegate
was outspoken in his rage and disappointment,
while Fenton Hardy was deeply chagrined.
As for the boys, although they had expected
that the additional search would be without
success, they shared their father’s bewilder-
ment.

“T ean’t understand it,’’ admitted the de-
tective. ‘‘I could have sworn that Jackley was
in earnest when he made that confession. He

The Mystery Deepens 173

knew he was near death and that he had noth-
ing to gain by concealment. I can’t under-
stand it at all.’’

And there the mystery remained, deeper
than it had ever been.

CHAPTER XX
Tur Fiasze in roe Towrk

For two days after the unsuccessful search
of Tower Mansion, there were no further de-
velopments in the affair of the robbery. But
on the third day, Chief Collig took a hand.

The first intimation the Hardy boys had of
it was when they met Callie Shaw and Iola
Morton on their way to school. Iola, a plump,
dark girl, was a sister of Chet Morton and had
achieved the honor of being about the only girl
Joe Hardy had ever conceded to be anything
but an unmitigated nuisance.

Joe, who was shy in the presence of girls,
professed a lofty scorn for all members of the
other sex, particularly those of high school
age, but had once grudgingly admitted that
Iola Morton was ‘‘all right, for a girl.’? This,
from him, was high praise.

‘‘Have you heard what’s happened?’’ asked
Callie, as they met the boys near the school
entrance.

‘‘School called off for to-day?’’ asked Joe
eagerly.

174

The Flash in the Tower 175

‘‘No, no. Nothing like that. It’s about the
Robinsons.’’

‘“What’s happened now?”’

‘‘Mr. Robinson has been arrested again.’

The Hardy boys stared at her as though
thunderstruck.

‘*What for?’’ demanded Frank, in astonish-
ment.

‘“‘Over that robbery at Tower Mansion. He
has been working in the city lately and Chief
Collig sent Detective Smuff for him last night.
Iola and I were over to see the Robinson girls
last night and they told us about it. Smuff
should be back by now.’’

‘Well, can you beat that!’? exclaimed Frank.
‘‘T wonder what’s the big idea of arresting him
again?’’

‘<It seems the chief has an idea that Mr. Rob-
inson was in league with this man Jackley, the
man your father got the confession from. He
told Mrs. Robinson last night that he was sure
Mr. Robinson had the stuff hidden somewhere
and that he was going to find out. He was per-
fectly mean and nasty about it, and Mrs. Rob-
inson doesn’t know what to do.’’

The Hardy boys looked at one another. The
affair had suddenly assumed more serious pro-
portions,

‘If Mr, Robinson is brought back, he’ll lose
his job, and he had a hard time getting it, any-
way,’’ said Iola.

176 The Tower Treasure

‘‘The worst of it is,’? said Frank slowly,
‘‘that the case looks pretty bad against Mr.
Robinson.”’

‘“*You don’t think theyll send him to the
penitentiary?’’

**It looks bad. The thief said he hid the stuff
in the old tower. When we looked for it, the
stuff wasn’t there. About the only person that
could have found it and taken it away, was
Mr. Robinson himself.’’

‘*He wouldn’t do it!’’ declared Iola indig-
nantly.

‘‘We’re sure he wouldn’t. But a jury
mightn’t be so easy to convince.’’

It was time to go into school at that moment
and they went to their classrooms, Frank and
Joe deeply worried by what they had just
heard. At recess that morning they met Jerry,
Phil, Tony and Chet Morton, and told them the
news. All the boys were highly concerned over
this sudden turn in events.

‘‘This will be tough on Perry,’’ said Phil.

‘‘Tt’ll be tough on the whole family,’’ Chet
declared. ‘‘They’ve had enough trouble over
this dirty affair as it is.’’

The boys discussed the situation from all
angles and racked their brains for some way
whereby they could help the Robinsons, but
they were reluctantly forced to admit that only
by actual discovery of the hidden loot could

The Flash in the Tower 177

Mr. Robinson be cleared of suspicion in con-
nection with the robbery.

‘‘Hiven if he were tried and acquitted, it
would be a stain on his reputation for the rest
of his life, as long as the treasure isn’t recov-
ered,’’? Frank summed up.

‘‘We’ll just have to wait and see what hap-
pens,’’ Joe said. ‘*We’ve done all we could,
and it hasn’t been enough.’’

‘‘And dad has done the same. I’m sorry, on
his account. He was so sure he had cleared the
whole thing up when he got the confession
from Jackley. But there was something lack-
ing.’

‘“Well, we all helped too,’’ remarked Jerry.
‘We kept Collig and Smnuff from catching that
train. Jackley wouldn’t have talked at all if
they had seen him.”’

So, reluctantly enough, the boys were forced
to admit that they were facing a stone wall.
This also was the conclusion of Fenton Hardy,
when they talked to him at lunch that day.

‘‘There’s nothing to be done,’’ said the de-
tective. ‘‘Robinson has been arrested, and
while he might be cleared by a skilful lawyer,
he hasn’t any money to spend on his defence.
Whether he is cleared or not, his reputation is
ruined.’’

‘‘Unless the loot is found,’’ put in Joe.

‘*Yes, unless the loot is found. That is his

178 The Tower Treasure

only hope. But I don’t think there’s much
chance of that.’’

And there the mystery of Tower Mansion
rested for the time being. The arrest of Mr.
Robinson furnished a sensation for a day or
so and then the case receded into the back-
ground, the newspapers finding other things to
become excited about. But for the Robinsons
it was, naturally enough, a matter of supreme
moment. Perry Robinson paid a call at the
Hardy home, pleading with the great detective
to continue his efforts to clear the accused man.

Mr. Hardy was sympathetic, but, as he said,
he was facing a stone wall.

‘I’ve done all I can, my boy,’’ he explained
to the grief-stricken lad. ‘‘If there was any-
thing more I could do, I would doit. But there
are no more clues. If Red Jackley’s confes-
sion couldn’t clear up the affair, then nothing
else could. I’m afraid—”’

He left the sentence unfinished.

‘‘Do you mean my father will go to jail?’’

“‘T wouldn’t say that. But you must be pre-
pared to face the worst.’’

‘‘He didn’t do it,’’ said Perry doggedly.

*‘T know you have confidence in him. But
the law looks only at the facts. Many an inno-
cent man has been convicted on less evidence.”’

**Tt will kill my mother.”’

Mr. Hardy was silent.

The Flash in the Tower 179

*‘T don’t know what to do,’’ said Perry.
“I'd do anything to save him. But there’s
nothing—’’

‘‘There is nothing any of us can do now un-
less by some lucky chance the loot is recovered.
That would clear everything up, of course.
But in the meantime we just have to wait and
hope.’’

‘‘And you can’t do anything more, Mr.
Hardy ?”’

‘©A detective is not a miracle man, my boy,’’
said Fenton Hardy kindly. ‘‘He is only a man
who is trained in tracing criminals. He has to
go by the facts at his disposal. I have ex-
hausted every line of action in this case.
Everything that could be done, has been done.’’

Perry Robinson got up, twisting his cap
nervously in his hands,

‘“We all thank you very much too, Mr.
Hardy,’’ he said huskily. ‘‘Don’t think I’ve
been ungrateful by coming here and asking you
to do more. I guess I didn’t realize just how
hopeless it is.’’

‘It isn’t hopeless, exactly. Don’t think
that. There’s always hope, you know. But—
be prepared for the worst.’’

“‘T'll have to be.’’

With that, the boy left. Frank and Joe met
him in the hallway and awkwardly tried to ex-
press their sympathy. Perry was grateful.

180 The Tower Treasure

‘“T know both of you have done a lot for us
tm this mess,’’ he said. ‘‘If it hadn’t been for
you we wouldn’t even have Jackley’s story to
go on.’’

‘“We’re only sorry it didn’t work out as we
hoped, Perry,’’ Frank said. ‘‘We thought that
would clear the whole thing up. Instead, it
seems to have involved your father deeper
than ever.’’

‘Tt wasn’t your fault.’’

‘‘Perhaps something will turn up yet. Joe
and I aren’t going to lie down on the job now.
There isn’t much we can do, but we’ll have
our eyes open for more clues—if there are
any.’’

Perry Robinson shrugged his shoulders dis-
spiritedly. ‘‘I guess there isn’t much use
now,’? he said. ‘‘But I appreciate it of
you.’’

When he went away, the Hardy boys
watched him going down the front walk.
His carefree stride was gone, and instead
he walked mechanically, as though in a
daze.

‘“What a fine pair of detectives we are!’’ ex-
claimed Frank, in sudden disgust. ‘‘If we had
been any good at all we could have got those
clues soon enough for dad to have caught
Jackley in time.’’

‘‘No use worrying about that now,’’ replied

The Flash in the Tower 181

his brother. ‘‘It was just the way things hap-
pened.’’

‘“Well, there’s one thing left. We must find
that loot!’

‘‘Haven’t we tried?’’

‘*Yes, but we can try some more. We've just
got to clear Mr. Robinson. And there’s only
the one way. We must find the loot!’’

Tt was a dull, gloomy day, indicative of rain,
and this did not add to the boys’ spirits.

To ease their feelings the brothers took a
walk, and quite unconsciously their steps took
them in the vicinity of Tower Mansion.

‘‘Let’s have a squint at the old place from
the outside,’’ suggested Joe.

“Don’t let Adelia see you, or she’ll come
after you with a broomstick,’’ chuckled Frank.
‘*Gee, but she’s a tartar!’’

They walked into the grounds. It was grow-
ing darker now and they easily made their way
among the trees and bushes to the vicinity of
the rambling mansion. They gazed up at the
old tower questioningly.

“Some puzzle,’? was Frank’s comment.
‘*Will the case of The Tower Treasure ever be
solved ?’’

*‘Search me!’’ was his brother’s slangy an-
swer. ‘‘Perhaps—oh, Frank, look!’’ he added
suddenly.

He was gazing at the upper windows of the

182 The Tower Treasure

old stone tower. He had seen a strange flash
of light. Now this flash was followed by an-
other.

‘“‘That’s queer,’? muttered Frank. ‘What
can it mean?’’

The light disappeared, then of a sudden it
flashed out and downward in the direction of
the lads.

‘‘Must be looking for us!’’ gasped Joe, and
started to get behind a bush.

“‘Tt’s Adelia—and she has a big flashlight,’’
came, a moment later, from Frank. ‘‘What do
you know about that!’’

**Sho’s looking for the treasure herself!’’
cried Joe. ‘‘Huh! And after all she said
about our looking being nothing but foolish-
ness !’’

They saw the woman gaze out of the window
for a few seconds. In one hand she held the
flashlight. For a moment she turned the light
into her own face, and the boys saw there a
look of utter disgust.

‘‘Didn’t find it, I’ll bet a cookie!’’ chuckled
Joe,

*‘Come on—let’s get away before she spots
us,’ returned his brother, and they were soon
on their way.

As they walked home, Joe and Frank talked
the matter over. They smiled when they
thought of the eccentric woman up in that

The Flash in the Tower 183

dusty old tower, but their minds soon went
back to Slim and the troubles of the Robin-
son family.

‘“We’ve got to find that loot!’ declared
Frank emphatically. ‘‘No matter where that
tower treasure is, we’ve got to find it!’’

“Got to—but can wet’’

‘““We simply have to, I tell you!’’

CHAPTER XXI
A New Ipra

A WEEE passed, and still the loot was not re-
covered.

Mr. Robinson had been held for trial at an
early court session. The general opinion in
Bayport was that he would be sentenced to im-
prisonment. The fact that he still refused to
tell where he had got the nine hundred dollars
so near the time of the robbery, weighed
heavily against him.

Fenton Hardy was downcast. It was the
first case of its kind that he had been unsuccess-
ful in solving completely, and although he was
satisfied that he had done good work in track-
ing down Red Jackley and getting the confes-
sion, the result had scarcely been worth the
effort.

Chief Collig and Detective Smuff were com-
placent. They made no effort to conceal their
critical opinions of the great detective, who
had taken so much time trying to solve the
mystery, when the real thief was right under

his nose all the time.
184

A New Idea 185

*‘T told you so,’’ was the burden of Chief
Collig’s song of triumph. ‘‘I knew all the time
that Robinson was the man. I arrested him
right after the robbery, but they all said it
couldn’t be him. SoTIlet him go. But I knew
all the time it couldn’t be any one else. <Ain’t
that so, Smuff?’’

And the loyal Smuff would dutifully chime
in with, ‘‘Yes, chief. We have to hand it to
you. You had the right man all the time.’’

*‘T guess these professional detectives won’t
think they’re so smart after all, eh, Smuff?’’

“‘No, you bet they won’t. We can still teach
’em a thing or two.’’

“<T’ll say we can, Smuff. J’ll say we can.’?

These stories, naturally enough, reached the
ears of Fenton Hardy and the Hardy boys and
they felt keenly the arrogant superiority dis-
played by the Bayport police officials. But
they said nothing, suffering their defeat in
silence.

On the following Saturday, Frank and Joe
decided to take an outing.

“T want to get out of this city for a few
hours,’? said Frank. ‘‘We’ve been so busy
worrying about the Tower Mansion case that
we’ve forgotten how to play. Let’s take the
motorbikes and go out for a run.”’

“‘Good idea!’’ his brother replied. ‘‘Mother
will make us up some lunch.”’

186 The Tower Treasure

Mrs. Hardy, who was in the kitchen with the
cook, smiled when they made known their re-
quest. Fair-haired and gentle, she had been
tolerantly amused by her sons’ activities in
the Tower affair, but she was glad to see them
return to their boyish ways.

**You’ll be getting too grown-up altogether,”’
she had said to them a few days previously.
And now, when they said they were going on a
day’s outing with the motorcycles, she hastened
to prepare a substantial lunch for them.

‘*We'll be back in time for supper, mother,”’
Frank promised. ‘‘We’re just going to follow
the highway along the railroad. After that we
may cut across country to Chet’s place, and
then home.’’

‘“‘Take care of yourself,’ she warned. ‘‘No
speeding.’’

‘“We'll be careful,’? they promised, as Joe
stowed the lunch basket on the carrier of his
machine. Then, with a sputtering roar, the
motorcycles sped out along the driveway and
soon the boys were on the concrete highway
leading out of the city.

In a short time they had reached the ont-
skirts of Bayport, and then they turned west
on to the State highway that ran parallel to
the railway tracks. It was a bright, sunny
spring morning, and the highway was not con-
gested with traffic.

A New Idea 187

Freight trains shunted back and forth on the
railway tracks below the embankment, and now
and then a passenger train steamed by, trail-
ing a cloud of black smoke. Like most boys,
Frank and Joe could not help but feel the fas-
cination of the railway, although they admitted
that they perferred the comparative freedom
of their own motorcycles, which were not
bound to follow the steel rails and did not have
to obey the beck and call of despatchers.

Out in the open country they put on a little
moré speed. The highway was like a city pave-
ment beneath them and the cool breeze stung
the color into their cheeks. For more than two
hours they rode, passing through villages and
small towns, until at last they came to a point
where another railway intersected the line they
had been following. Here, a road also ran
parallel to the tracks, branching off the main
highway. Always on the alert for new country
to explore, the Hardy boys decided to follow
this side road.

‘It’s off the main stream of traffic,’’ said
Frank, ‘‘and the country seems to be wooded
farther on. We can have lunch in the shade of
some trees.’’

This appeared to be an advantage, for there
were no trees along the State road, and the con-
stant stream of vehicles made a roadside lunch
something of a public affair. Accordingly, the

188 The Tower Treasure

boys turned their motorcycles down the side
road which, although it was not paved, was
well graded, and led through a quieter country-
side.

‘‘What railroad is this, anyway?’’ asked
Frank, as they sped along.

‘‘The Bayport and Coast line. It’s mostly
freight.’’

‘“‘The Bayport and Coast! Why, that’s the
railway that Red Jackley used to work for.
Don’t you remember dad telling us that? His
first crime was stealing freight from the
road.”’

“So he did! I’d forgotten all about it.’’

The boys looked down at the tracks below
the embankment with renewed interest, by vir-
tue of the railway’s association with the no-
torious criminal. Mention of Jackley’s name
revived recollections of the Tower Mansion
case, and when the boys finally decided to stop
in the shade of a little grove of trees beside the
road for lunch, they reviewed every incident
of the mysterious affair.

‘It would have been better for every one if
Jackley had stayed with the railway,’’ Frank
observed, as he bit into a thick roastbeef sand-
wich.

‘“He sure caused a lot of trouble before he
died.’’

‘And he has caused even more since, by the

A New Idea 189

looks of things. The Robinsons will remember
his name for a long time to come.’’

“I wonder if Mr. Robinson really was in
league with him, Frank?’’

‘‘T don’t think so. And I don’t believe Mr.
Robinson ever found that treasure after the
robbery, either. There is some explanation to
this whole affair that none has been able to
fathom.’’

“If I remember rightly, it was in this part
of the country that Jackley worked.’’

‘“‘That’s what dad told us. He said it was
along the right of way near the State road.
Jackley was a section hand or signalman, or
something.”’

Both boys gazed down the two lines of rail-
way tracks that gleamed in the sun. Far into
the distance, the glittering bands of steel ex-
tended, vanishing into a common perspective.

The land along the right of way was thickly
wooded. It was an attractive part of the coun-
try and here and there the wooded spaces were
broken by green fields and meadows. The boys
were at the top of a slope, and they had a view
of a wide expanse of country below them.

In the far distance, along the tracks, they
could see a little red railway station, and back
of that the roofs and spires of a village.
Nearer still they could see the spindly legs and
squat bulk of a water tank, painted a bright

190 The Tower Treasure

scarlet. This water tank was not far from the
railway station, but half a mile down the track,
and only a few hundred yards from the place
where the Hardy boys were seated, rose the
bulk of another water station.

But this tower—one of the old style built be-
fore the modern tanks came into use—was not
freshly painted. It had been allowed to fall
into a state of disrepair. Some of the rungs
were missing from the ladder that led up the
side, and the tower itself had a forlorn and
weather-beaten aspect, as though it had been
deserted. This, indeed, was the case. The new
tower tank closer to the station had been
erected to replace it, and although the old struc-
ture had not been torn down, it was not now

used.

Frank took a huge bite out of his sandwich
and began to munch it thoughtfully. The sight
of the two water stations had given him an
idea, but at first it seemed to him to be too
absurd for consideration. He was wondering
whether he should mention it to his brother.

Then he noticed that Joe, too, was gazing
thoughtfully down the railway tracks. Joe
raised a sandwich to his lips absently, essayed
a bite and missed the sandwich altogether.
Still he continued gazing at the two water
towers.

Finally Joe turned and looked at his brother.

A New Idea 191

In the eyes of both was the light of a great
discovery. They knew that they were both
thinking of the same thing.

‘‘Two water towers,’’ said Frank slowly.

‘*An old one and a new one.’’

‘And Jackley said—’’

‘¢He hid the stuff in the old tower.’’

‘*He was a railwayman.’’

‘CWhy not?’’ shouted Joe, springing to his
feet. ‘‘Why couldn’t it have been the old water
tower? He used to work around here.’’

‘‘He didn’t say the old tower of Tower Man-
sion, after all. He just said ‘the old tower!’ ”’

‘“‘Frank, I believe we’ve stumbled on the
clue!’?

“It would be the natural thing for him to
come to his old haunts after the robbery. And
if he found he couldn’t get away with the stuff
he would hide it somewhere he knew. The old
water tower! Why didn’t we think of it be-
fore, Joe? Why, that must be the place!’’

CHAPTER XXII
Tue Seance

Lunou, motorcycles—everything else was
forgotten!

With a wild yell of delight, Frank began to
scurry down the embankment that flanked the
right of way. At his heels ran Joe.

They raced down the grassy slope until they
came to the wire fence. They scrambled over it,
heedless of tearing their clothes. They dashed
up on to the cinder path beside the rails.

‘“What if we’re wrong, Frank?’’ panted
Joe.

‘“We can’t be wrong. I just know that’s
what Jackley meant. The old tower. It was
the old water tower he meant all along. He
didn’t have time to explain.’’

The Hardy boys were tingling with excite-
ment.

It seemed that they could never reach the
water tower. They dashed along the cinder
path with all the speed at their command, but
the tower still seemed a long distance away.

192

The Search 193

“Tf only we have stumbled on the secret
after all, Joe!’

‘‘Tt’ll clear Mr. Robinson—’’

‘We'll get the reward—’’

**Dad’ll be proud of us.’’

These thoughts gave them new strength and
their hopes were high as they neared the tower.

The structure reared gloomily from beside
the tracks. At close quarters it was even more
decrepit, even more in a state of disrepair
than they had imagined. The old tower had
been abandoned for some time in favor of the
new tank nearer the station. It sagged peril-
ously. The ladder that led to the top lacked so
many rungs that at first the boys feared they
‘would be unable to ascend.

“If Jackley got up this ladder, we can do the
same,’’ said Frank, as he stopped, panting, at
the bottom. ‘‘Let’s go.’’

He began to scramble up the flimsy ladder.

Hardly had he ascended four rungs than
there came an alarming crack!

**Look out!’’

Frank clung to the rung above, just as a
rung snapped beneath his weight. He hung in
midair for a moment, then drew up his feet
and placed them on the next rung. This proved
firmer, and he was able to go on.

**Don’t break ’em all,’’ called Joe. ‘‘I want
to be in on this.’’

194 The Tower Treasure

Frank continued up the ladder. Occasion-
ally, when he came to a place where a rung had
broken off, he was obliged to haul himself up-
ward by main force, but finally he neared the
top. The ladder ran up along the side of the
tank to the very top of the great, vat-like re-
ceptacle, and there it led to a trapdoor.

The Hardy boys did not look down. They
were high above the ground now, and the old
water tower was swaying alarmingly. They
began to realize their peril, for the tower was
old and liable to topple over with them. But
the thought did not serve to restrain them, and
at last Frank scrambled over the last rung and
found himself on the upper surface of the
tower. He turned around and helped Joe over.

Far below them lay the countryside, the
green fields laid out in neat patterns, the roads
in the distance like white ribbons, and the rail-
way tracks glistening in the sunlight. The
wind seemed much stronger on top of the
tower, and it whistled about their ears. The
flimsy structure swayed to and fro with every
movement they made,

The trapdoor was closed. Frank went over
to it and tugged at it, but the timber was heavy
and Joe was obliged to help him. Between the
two, however, they managed to raise it, reveal-
ing a dark gap that led into the recesses of the
abandoned water tower.

The Search 195

The upper part of the tank was a space about
four feet in depth and separated from the
lower, or main portion by a thick floor. Frank
lowered himself through the opening, and he
was quickly followed by his brother. They
crouched down below the roof of the tank and
peered about them in the obscurity.

‘It must be in here, There’s no other
place he could have hidden the stuff,’’ said
Frank.

‘‘Let’s hunt for it, then. I wish we had
brought our flashlights.’’

Frank, however, had matches. Cautiously,
he lit one. Then, crawling on hands and
kmees, he advanced into the darkness of the
tower.

In the faint glow of the match they saw that
the place was half-filled with rubbish. There
was a quantity of old lumber, miscellaneous
bits of iron, battered tin pails, crowbars, and
other things piled up pellmell in all parts of
the tower.

But there was no sign of hidden loot.

“Tt must be here somewhere!’’ declared Joe
doggedly. ‘‘He wouldn’t leave it out in the
open. Probably it’s in behind all this junk.’’

Frank held the match. They had to be care-
ful, for the place was as dry as tinder and any
negligence might have made the whole place
a mass of flame from which there would have

196 The Tower Treasure

been no escape. In the glow, then, Joe
searched frantically, casting the old pails and
the old bits of board and lumber aside with
reckless abandon.

One entire side of the tower top was
searched without result. Then, on the far side,
they spied a number of boards piled up in a
peculiar manner. They did not look as though
they had been flung there carelessly or acci-
dentally, but rather as though they had been
placed to hide something.

Like a terrier after a bone, Joe made for
it. Frantically, he tore away the boards.

There, in a neat little hiding place formed
by the wood, lay a bag. It was an ordinary
gunny sack, but when Joe dragged it forth he
knew at once that their search had ended.

‘“We’ve found it!’’ he exulted.

“The Tower treasure!’’

‘¢This must be it.’’

Joe dragged the gunny sack out into the light
beneath the trapdoor. They did not even wait
to go out on top of the water tower.

‘‘Hurry!’’ exclaimed Frank, as with trem-
bling fingers Joe began to open the sack.

It was tied with a piece of twine, and Joe
tugged at the stubborn knots. At last, how-
ever, the twine fell away, and the bag sageed
open.

Joe plunged his hand into the recesses of the

The Search 197

sack and he first withdrew an old-fashioned
bracelet of precious stones.

‘< Jewelry !’’

‘*How about the bonds?’’

Again Joe groped into the sack. His fingers
encountered a bulky packet. He withdrew it
and the packet proved to be comprised of long,
imposing-looking documents, held together by
a rubber band. On the surface of the outer
document, when they held it up to the light,
they read the information that it was a
negotiable bond for $5000 issued by the City of
Bayport.

“That settles it,?? said Frank. ‘‘We’ve
found the treasure.’’

The boys looked at one another in triumph.

‘*Jackley wasn’t lying after all. He did hide
the stuff in the old tower. And Mr. Robinson
wasn’t in league with him and didn’t find it
after it was hidden,’’ ruminated Joe. ‘‘We can
clear up the whole affair now.”’

‘‘Let’s start, then!’’ Frank exclaimed. ‘‘No
use sitting here all day patting ourselves on
the back. It’s up to us to get right back to
Bayport and turn this treasure over to the
Applegates.’’

Hastily, he scrambled up through the trap,
and Joe passed the bag of treasure up to him.
Frank put the sack carefully to one side, then
helped his brother up to the top of the tower.

198 The Tower Treasure

After that he tied the treasure sack to his belt,
in order that he might have the full use of his
two hands in descending the precarious ladder.

They were so excited by their momentous
discovery, by the knowledge that all the days
of fruitless search had now ended, that they de-
scended the ladder at breakneck speed. The
last two rungs of the ladder snapped under
Frank’s feet and the boys were obliged to un-
dertake a drop of six feet in order to reach
the ground, but they hardly noticed it.
Scarcely had they picked themselves up than
they were off on a run for their motorcycles,
parked far back on the hillside.

‘*We’ve shown ’em, eh?’’ gasped Joe.

*‘T'll say we have! Oh boy, won’t this sur-
prise everybody ?’’

‘*Now I'd like to see dad tell us we’re not cut
out to be detectives !’?

‘“Wait till Adelia Applegate sees all her
jewelry back again. She’ll change her opinion
of us.”’

‘“‘Wait till Hurd Applegate sees his bonds
back. And wait till Chief Collig and Detective
Smuff hear about it!’’

So the Hardy boys gloated over their pros-
pective return, but beneath it all they were
thinking of what this discovery meant to the
Robinsons.

They reached the embankment, scrambled

The Search 199

over the fence, and made their way up the slope
until at last they regained their motorcycles.
Although they had only partly finished their
lunch, they were too excited to eat any more,
so they stowed the remainder away in the
basket, lashed the bag of treasure securely to
Frank’s carrier, and turned the motorcycles
around.

‘“What a lucky chance for us that we de-
cided to go down this road!’’ declared Frank.
‘‘If we had done as we intended and circled
around by Chet’s place we would never have
found the stuff!’’

‘¢And it’s ten chances to one that neither of
us would have thought of that water tower
until his dying day.’’

The rest of their speculations were drowned
by the roar of the motorcycles as the Hardy
boys set out on their return to Bayport with
the Tower treasure.

CHAPTER XXITI
Apevia APPLEGATE’S CoMPLIMENT

Tun curtain rolled down on the mystery of
the Tower treasure that afternoon in the
library of the Applegate home.

The Hardy boys had gone directly to their
father with the story of the recovery of the
loot, and Fenton Hardy had lost no time in ac-
quainting Hurd Applegate with the facts. Be-
tween them, they arranged a little surprise for
Chief Collig and Detective Smuff, as well as
for Henry Robinson. On the invitation of
Hurd Applegate, the chief brought Mr. Robin-
son to Tower Mansion, ‘‘to be faced with addi-
tional evidence,’’? as Fenton Hardy suavely
put it.

Chief Collig and Detective Smuff entered the
library with their prisoner between them.
They had confidently anticipated that Mr.
Applegate had discovered some new facts that
would further serve to tighten the web about
the unfortunate caretaker, and when they came
into the room there was nothing at first to
eradicate this impression.

200

Adelia Applegate’s Compliment 201

Hurd Applegate and Adelia Applegate sat
by the huge library table, and with them were
Mr. Hardy and his sons. Chief Collig did not
at first notice the gunny sack lying on the
table.

‘Well, Mr. Applegate,’’ said the chief, fan-
ning himself, as usual, with his hat. “I
brought along Mr. Robinson, just as you
asked.’’

*‘Good. As I mentioned to you, there has
been some new evidence in this case.’’

“‘T knew something would turn up,’’ grunted
Smuff.

‘‘Not that any new evidence is needed, of
course,’’ declared the chief. ‘‘We got this fel-
low dead to rights, as it-is. He ain’t got a
chance in the world. But still, it’s just as good
to make a real strong case of it.’’

‘‘T’m afraid you don’t understand me,’’ went
on Hurd Applegate. ‘‘This new evidence will
clear Mr. Robinson. And when he is cleared,
I want him back in my employ again.’’

““Huh?”’ gasped Chief Collig.

**What’s that you say?’’ exclaimed Smnuff.

“The stolen stuff has been found.’’

“No!??

‘‘Here it is,’’? put in Fenton Hardy, getting
up and dumping the gunny sack upside down
on the table. There was a tinkle and clatter
as jewels came rolling out on the table, and

202 The Tower Treasure

then there was a rustle of paper as the packets
of bonds followed.

‘Where was it found?’’ asked the chief.
‘‘This doesn’t clear him. He probably hid it
some place.’’

“‘The stuff was found just where Jackley
said he hid it. In the old tower.’’

“‘But the old tower was searched high and
low.”’

‘‘There is more than one ‘old tower’,’’ went
on Mr. Hardy. ‘‘Only we didn’t happen to
think of that at the time. It was found in the
old water tower, down at the Junction, where
Jackley used to work.’

Chief Collig was speechless with surprise.
He gazed at Smuff, whose jaw had dropped in
astonishment.

‘*Who found it?’’ asked Smuff at last.

“These two lads,’’ said Mr. Applegate, in-
dicating the Hardy boys. ‘‘They found it this
morning.’’

‘“‘Them kids?’? scoffed Chief Collig. ‘‘I
don’t believe it.’’

‘‘Well, there’s the stuff to prove it,’’
snapped Fenton Hardy.

“‘T’ve got my jewelry back, thanks to them,’’
declared Adelia Applegate shrilly. ‘‘They
were smarter than the whole pack of you. If
it wasn’t for them, the stuff would never have
been found. And I was the one who didn’t

Adelia Applegate’s Compliment 203

want to let them search the old tower and who
spoke crossly to them. Why, they’re real de-
tectives, both of them.’’

In all the talk and excitement that fol-
lowed the clearing up of the Tower mystery,
the Hardy boys received no compliment that
they treasured so much as that remark of
Adelia Applegate’s.

‘Well,’? said Chief Collig, scratching his
head, ‘‘I’ll be bumped!’

He looked at Smuff.

“‘T’ll be bumped, too,’? declared Smuff.

‘‘This beats all,’’ said the chief.

‘Tt does,’’ agreed his faithful satellite.

‘“‘Shut up!’? snapped the chief. ‘*Who
asked you to say anything?”’

“‘Nobody.’?

‘Well, then, keep quiet. A fine detective you
are! Why didn’t you think of that? The old
tower! Of course he meant the old water
tower. What else could he have meant? But
you wouldn’t think of it. Not in a hundred
years—you wouldn’t think of it. What kind of
a detective are you, anyway? Here was a case
that was as simple as ABC and you couldn't
think of it. You let yourself be beat by a
couple of boys!’’

Smnuff looked properly ashamed of himself,
although it was plain that he was struggling
with the temptation to ask the chief why he

204 The Tower Treasure

had not thought of the water tower, too. But
he stifled the impulse and thereby doubtless
saved the chief the trouble of dismissing him
for impudence and insubordination.

‘*Yes,’’ said Hurd Applegate, ‘‘the Hardy
boys recovered the treasure. And I think you
will admit that Mr. Robinson is cleared. Per-
sonally, I am satisfied that he knew nothing
whatever of the theft and I want to apologize
to him for any unjust suspicions I may have
had. Mr. Robinson, will you let me shake your
hand???

Trembling, Henry Robinson stepped for-
ward. His face had been illuminated by a glow
of incredulous hope from the moment he
learned of the discovery of the loot.

‘‘Am I really cleared?’’ he asked. ‘‘I knew
things looked bad against me all along. I
hardly dared hope—’’

‘*T guess you’ll be let off now all right,’? said
Chief Collig grudgingly.

‘“‘There will be formalities, of course,’’ said
Fenton Hardy. ‘‘But I’m pretty sure the
prosecution won’t continue. The discovery of
this loot proves Red Jackley’s story was cor-
rect from start to finish.’’

‘But how about that nine hundred dollars?”’
demanded Smuff suspiciously.

Mr. Robinson straightened up.

“I’m sorry,’’ he said, ‘‘but even yet I can’t

Adelia Applegate’s Compliment 205

explain that. I can in a few days, perhaps;
but I’ve promised to keep silent about that
money. It’s a private matter entirely.’’

“‘T don’t think we need bother about that,’’
objected Hurd Applegate. ‘‘I’ve checked over
the treasure and it’s all there. All the bonds
and all the jewelry. There is nothing missing.
As for the nine hundred dollars, why, that is
Mr. Robinson’s own affair.’’

Reluctantly, Smuff subsided into silence.

‘“Will you come back into my employ, Mr.
Robinson??? asked Hurd Applegate. ‘‘Of
course, I feel very keenly, because you were un-
justly accused, and I want to make it up to you.
If you will consent to come back to Tower Man-
sion as caretaker again I will increase your
salary, and I’ll also insist that you accept back
pay for the time you were away.’’

‘‘Why,’’ stammered Mr. Robinson, ‘‘this is
good of you, Mr. Applegate. Of course I’ll
come back, Ill be glad to. It’ll mean a lot to
my wife and daughters—and to Perry. He'll
be able to go back to school again.’’

‘Good!’ exclaimed Joe Hardy impulsively,
slapping his knee. Then, finding that he had
attracted attention to himself, he sank back
into his chair, embarrassed.

‘And as for the Hardy boys,’’ proceeded
Hurd Applegate, ‘‘seing they discovered the
treasure—’’

206 The Tower Treasure

‘Real detectives,’’ shrilled Adelia. ‘Real
detectives, both of them! Smart lads!’’

‘Yes, they showed some real detective work,
and I hope they grow up to follow in their
father’s footsteps. But, as I was saying, they
discovered the treasure, so of course they will
get the reward.’’

‘‘A thousand bucks!’’ exclaimed Detective
Smuff, in awe.

‘‘Dollars, Mr. Smuff—dollars!’’ corrected
Adelia Applegate severely. ‘‘No slang please,
not in Tower Mansion.’’

‘‘One thousand iron men!’’ declared Smuff,
unheeding. ‘‘One thousand round, fat, juicy
smackers for a couple of kids! And a real de-
tective like me—!’’

The thought was too much for him. He sank
his head in his hands and groaned aloud.

Frank and Joe did not dare look at each
other. They were finding it difficult enough to
restrain their laughter without that.

‘*Yes, a thousand dollars,’’ went on Hurd
Applegate. ‘‘I’ll write the checks now. Five
hundred for each.’’

With that he took out his fountain pen,
reached in a drawer of the table for a check
book, and soon the silence was broken by the
scratching of pen on paper. Hurd Applegate
wrote out two checks, each for five hundred
dollars and these he handed to the boys. Frank

Adelia Applegate’s Compliment 207

and Joe accepted them with thanks, folded
them up and put them in their pockets.

‘‘And that, I think,’? concluded Mr. Apple-
gate, ‘‘finishes the mystery of the Tower
robbery.”’

‘‘Thanks to the Hardy boys!’’ chimed in his
sister. ‘‘Real detectives, both of them. I must
ask them up for supper some night.’’

CHAPTER XXIV
Tue Last or THE Tower CasE

THe discovery of the Tower Mansion treasure
was a Bayport sensation for almost a week—
and a week is a long time for any sensation to
last, even in Bayport.

People said that they knew all along that Mr.
Robinson was innocent of the theft, and went
as far out of their way to be nice to him as
they had gone out of their way to be unkind
to him and ignore him when he was accused
of crime.

People too, were loud in their praises of the
Hardy boys, and everybody predicted a bright
future for them and said they knew all along
that the lads were bound to solve the mystery
if they kept at it long enough. All of this the
boys took with a grain of salt, as the saying
is, for they knew that the public is fickle and as
quick to condemn failure as it is to praise
success,

Frank and Joe did not let the adulation turn

their heads,
208

The Last of the Tower Case 209

‘*When we couldn’t find the treasure every-
body said we were just nuisances—little boys
trying to play detective,’’ laughed Frank.
‘Now that we have found it, all that is for-
gotten. The main thing is that we’ve proved
to dad that we know how to keep our eyes and
ears open.’’

‘‘And we’ve got a thousand dollars between
us,’?

‘*A mighty nice start for a bank account.’’

‘“‘T’ll say itis! I wish another mystery would
come along.’’

‘“We can’t expect to get a reward for every
case we work on—and we can’t expect to solve
’em all, either,’’? Frank pointed out.

‘“We can’t expect to get many cases to try
our hand at. We’re not professionals just
yet.”’

‘‘No, but we will be, some day.’’

This conversation took place as the Hardy
boys were on their way up to Tower Mansion
about a week later. Adelia Applegate, who
had taken a great fancy to the lads, in violent
contrast to her dislike of them on the day they
had gone to make a search of the old tower,
had invited them up to the Tower Mansion
for supper.

She had also asked them to invite a number
of their chums. So Slim Robinson, Chet
Morton, Biff Hooper, Jerry Gilroy, Phil Cohen

210 The Tower Treasure

and Tony Prito had all been invited by the
brothers to attend.

When the Hardy boys reached the Mansion
they found that the others had already ar-
rived.

‘“We’re waiting for you,’’ shrilled Miss Ap-
plegate, who was decked out in an ancient
yellow gown with remarkable trimmings of
black and red. ‘‘Everybody’s hungry.’’

She soon led the way to the dining room,
where a long table had been prepared for the
boys. They gasped when they saw that array,
and Miss Applegate beamed.

‘I know you don’t want an old woman like
me watching you while you eat,’’ she cried.
‘So go right ahead—and put your elbows on
the table if you wish.”’

There was a scramble for places, as a serv-
ant came in with the soup, but Frank Hardy
sprang to his feet.

‘‘Three cheers for Miss Applegate!’’

They were given with vociferous enthusiasm.
Miss Applegate blushed with pleasure, and as
she left the room the Hardy boys and their
chums were sitting down to a banquet the like
of which they had never seen before. For more
than half an hour they indulged in roast chicken,
crisp and brown, huge helpings of fluffy mashed
potatoes, pickles, vegetables and salads, pies
and puddings to suit every taste, and when the

The Last of the Tower Case 211

last boy sank back in his chair with a happy
sigh there was still food to spare.

“IT never thought I’d see the day when I’d
quit eating while there was still some chicken
on the table,’? murmured Chet Morton, ‘‘but
this is the day.’’

‘“We have the Hardy boys to thank for this
spread,’’ said Jerry. ‘‘Let’s give ’em three
cheers.’’

The boys roared out their ‘‘hip, hip, hurrah !”’
three times, while Joe and Frank looked acutely
uncomfortable. They looked still more un-
comfortable when Slim Robinson got up, push-
ing back his chair.

‘‘T’d like to say something, fellows, if you
don’t mind.’’

“Three cheers for Slim!’’ yelled some one.

So the boys gave Slim three cheers, and he
gulped and blushed crimson.

“Speech 1”?

The cry was taken up.

“‘Speech! Speech!’?

‘I’m not going to make any speech,’’ he said.
**T only want to say something.’’

“‘Go ahead!’’

‘I’m not going to hand out any compliments
to the Hardy boys.’’

Joe and Frank looked greatly relieved. They
had been afraid of being embarrassed by Slim’s
gratitude.

212 The Tower Treasure

‘‘Eiverybody knows what they’ve done and
everybody knows what it means to me and to
my family.’’

**You bet!’

‘Sure!’

“But I just wanted to clear up one point
on behalf of my father.’’

‘‘Three cheers for Henry Robinson! He’s
all right.’’

The three cheers for Mr. Robinson were per-
haps a little weaker than the others, but that
was only because some of the boys were begin-
ning to show slight signs of hoarseness by that
time.

“It’s about the nine hundred dollars that he
got just about the time of the robbery. He
couldn’t explain it at the time and it looked
bad against him.’’

‘Tt doesn’t matter where he got it,’? shouted
Biff Hooper. ‘‘I’ll bet he got it honestly any-
way, and if any one else says different, just let
him come outside.’’

No one else said differently.

‘“Yes, he got it honestly, of course,’’ said
Slim. ‘‘The money was paid him by a man who
owed it to him. But dad couldn’t say anything
about it because he promised not to. This man
owed two other men besides my father, and
those debts should have been paid first. He
was afraid the others would sue him if they

The Last of the Tower Case 213

heard he had paid dad, so he made my father
promise to say nothing. And when my dad
makes a promise he keeps it.’’

The boys looked at one another. To tell the
truth, few of them had thought of the affair of
the nine hundred dollars, but now that it was
recalled to them they realized that here was
the final angle of the Tower Mansion mystery
cleared up at last. They cheered Slim to the
echo, they pounded on the table with their
knives, and when Hurd Applegate came in to
see what the racket was about they gave him
three cheers and made him sit at the head of
the table.

And that ended the affair of Tower Mansion,
but it did not end the career of the Hardy boys
as amateur detectives. They were soon to be
called on to help solve another mystery, and
the story of their adventures in this case will
be told in the next volume of this series, en-
titled ‘‘The Hardy Boys: The House on the
Cliff.’’

‘‘Speech! Speech!’’ the boys were shouting
to Hurd Applegate.

The old stamp collector got up, smiling.

“‘Tt’s been a long time since there’s been a
crowd of boys in Tower Mansion,’ he said.
“‘T’ve been in danger of forgetting that I was
ever young once myself. So I want you to come
back—often. I want you to know that Tower

214 The Tower Treasure

Mansion is always open to the Hardy boys and
their chums.’’

The Hardy boys looked at one another, as
the crowd about the table broke into a yell of
delight.

‘‘He’s a pretty good old scout after all, isn’t
he?’’ said Frank.

‘“You bet he is,’’ replied his brother.

Tue Enp